


Where my heart and future lies

by scalira



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Child Death, Homophobic Encounter, Human AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Q slur reclaimed, Sexual Content, WIP, holiday au, implied self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 27,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8885077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalira/pseuds/scalira
Summary: Raphael hasn't been home for the holidays in years. Still being haunted by a tragedy that happened years ago, he isn't planning on visiting this year either. Until he gets a very persuasive email from a very angry man named Simon Lewis.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> As you must've seen in the tags and the chapters, this is a work in progress. If you clicked on the first chapter anyway, thank you so much! I know nobody really likes WIP's, so I apologize.
> 
> This is also my first time posting a WIP, as I'm usually not really comfortable posting anything that isn't finished. But I just wanted to get at least the groundworks of this up as opposed to just dumping the whole thing when it's finished (which will probably be around New Year, when the time of holiday fics has kind of passed so it wouldn't really make sense to post a relatively big fic then).
> 
> I'm going to be honest with you. I don't know how many chapters this will be, I don't know where exactly this story is taking me, I don't even know if I'll even finish it on time because I have finals and Christmas parties etc. coming up. I just wanted to be honest with you all!
> 
> So, if you're still reading, let's get started!

Growing up, Raphael’s family never celebrated Christmas like most people did. They usually didn’t have the money to buy presents or Christmas decorations or even a tree, and their Christmas meal was just like all the other meals throughout the year. As he got older, Raphael would sometimes make his brothers gifts and his mother would try to buy the cheapest Christmas ham she could find, but it still never looked like it did on TV.

But they never felt like they were missing out. They went to church on Christmas eve and spent the rest of the night in their PJs, drinking hot milk and playing old board games. And it always was a lot of fun. Christmas was one of the only days Raphael’s mom didn’t have to work so the whole family could just be together and enjoy each other’s company.

Raphael left home to go to college when he was eighteen, and by the age of twenty two, he had built his own company from scratch and was one of the most promising young business owners on Wall Street. He earned more money in a month than his mother would make in three. His family got to move to a bigger house because of him, and he made sure his mother never had to work another day in her life again.

The downside of being a successful business owner, however, is that it takes up _a lot_ of your time. Raphael is needed in New York throughout the entire year, even during the holidays. There’s no time for joy when you have a business to run.

This year especially, right after having signed a contract with one of the biggest investors on Wall Street, he simply cannot afford to travel home for Christmas. He’s sure his mom understands. She always does.

 

“Raphael?” Lily asks, peeking her head around the door of Raphael’s office.

Raphael sits up straight in his chair and puts away the picture of his family he’d been looking at. He clears his throat and signals for her to come in.

“I’m leaving soon. Just checking if you got the rapports I asked Stan to bring you.”

Raphael holds up the files from one of their daughter locations and smiles up at his assistant.

“Got them,” he assures her.

Lily smiles back. “Good,” she nods. She opens her mouth to add something else, then closes it, then opens it again and looks down at her feet. She takes a deep breath and looks back up, blurting: “Aren’t you going home for Christmas?”

Raphael blinks at her. Surely she must know there’s too much to be done for him to just disappear off the grid for a few weeks. He can’t afford it.

“Lily, you _know_ – ” He starts, but she cuts him off with a quick hand wave.

“Yes, I know there’s a lot to be done. But you haven’t been home for Christmas in _years¸_ Raphael. I think you deserve to take a few weeks off.”

Raphael looks away from Lily in favor of staring at his desk instead, clenching and unclenching his fists. He desperately searches for an excuse to make her leave without being rude, but the best he can come up with is: “I have a lot to do. Do you mind?” as he gestures to the door.

Lily holds his gaze for a long moment before nodding and turning around on her heels.

“Don’t forget to take a break,” she throws over her shoulder as she walks out of his office.

Raphael sighs to himself and settles further into his chair, allowing the buzzing of his computer and the pull of exhaustion to drift him to sleep.

 

He’s jerked out of his nightmare by the high-pitched _ping_ signaling that he received a new email. Raphael sits up straight, rubs his face and opens his inbox.

_Mr. Santiago,_

_I know I’m supposed to be polite and follow the email protocol and rules and whatnot, but frankly, I couldn’t be bothered. You see, you most likely don’t even know who I am. Actually, who am I kidding? You most certainly do not know who I am. And you know why? Because you haven’t talked to your mother in literal years besides the occasional phone call. So let me introduce myself: my name is Simon Lewis, and I’m the fulltime caregiver of your younger brother, Diego. Your mother has told me a lot about you, so I get that you’re a very successful, busy man. But even the busiest man should make time for his family, especially during the holiday season._

_So, pardon my language, I strongly urge you to get your entitled, rich ass over to New Mexico and spend the holidays with your goddamn family. I swear to God, I’ve become like a surrogate eldest son to Guadalupe while you’re too busy making money._

_So here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to tell all your employees that you’re taking a leave of absence, that you’ll be back after New Year and that you’ll only be available if your company is going bankrupt or being swallowed by flames. Then you’re going to pack your bags, make a quick stop at a local mall, buy your brothers and mom Christmas presents (Diego would love the newest Harry Potter book, and Julian is really into Cars lately), and then you’re flying, driving, running or crawling down here. I don’t care how you do it, but if you’re not standing on your mother’s doorstep by December 15th, I will personally fly over to New York to drag you over here myself._

_Sincerely,  
Simon Lewis._

 

Raphael blinks at his screen, rereads the email, and blinks at the screen again. He can’t even be _angry_ with this kid. Mostly because he’s too caught off guard to be, but also because he’s _right_. The thought of actually flying down to be with his family briefly crosses his mind, but then he smells the scent of burned rubber and hears his brother screaming next to him, feels his hands desperately grip for the steering wheel in a last attempt to regain control, and the thought of visiting his family fleets his mind just as quickly as it came.

His hands shake as he closes the email and logs out of his computer. He tries to push back the memories suddenly flooding his mind, about sleepless nights at the hospital and his mother crying and _the truck_ , the one he should’ve seen coming but didn’t, but the harder he tries the faster they come. His office, usually his safe space, quickly turns into something too close to a coffin, devoid of any air as the walls close in on him. Raphael desperately reaches for his phone to dial Magnus’s number, who normally succeeds in talking him through one of his panic attacks. But he can’t stand being in this small space anymore and stumbles to his door, yanking it open so violently it almost hits him in the face. He nearly falls outside and tries to make his way across the building, but the thought of having to stand in an elevator to get downstairs suddenly scares him to death. So he makes his way to the staircase instead, but doesn’t make it to the first flight of stairs before collapsing onto the floor and curling into himself.

He sits through his panic attack alone and scared, his body shaking so violently his teeth clatter in his mouth. Raphael tries thinking about good things, calm things. About his dog at home or dinner with Magnus later that week or _anything_ , and slowly but surely he’s able to pull himself out of the paralyzing terror that seems to have taken control over his body.

The whole thing probably lasts less than twenty minutes, but it feels like a lifetime has passed when he finally makes his way downstairs and stops a cab once he’s outside. His hands are still trembling on the ride home.

Once home, Raphael throws a sideway glance to his old fashioned calendar.

December 5th.

Ten days to decide.

Ten days to come up with an excuse as to why he can’t go.

*

Raphael normally enjoys his dinners with Magnus. It used to be an outlet for both of them to unwind and just relax, talking and drinking and laughing together. Magnus always shared Raphael’s frustration about the human race in general, and not a dinner party goes by without them gossiping about their co-workers like two school girls.

But Raphael made the mistake to bring up the email, and now he has to suffer the consequences.

“Raphael, I think you should go,” Magnus says for probably the twentieth time in the past ten minutes. “I think it’ll be good for you to reconnect with your family. You always used to love them.”

“I still love them,” Raphael says, maybe a bit more snarky than intended. He takes another swig of his wine before continuing. “I wish I could go visit, but I’m too busy. I can’t leave.”

Magnus raises an eyebrow at him.

“You and I both know that’s not the real reason you won’t visit them.”

Raphael looks down onto his plate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says weakly.

“Raphael…” Magnus starts, but he’s cut off when Raphael pushes his chair backwards and stands.

“Don’t _Raphael_ me,” he bites, “I don’t want your pity. I thought you knew that.”

“I’m not pitying you! I just want you to go home, Raphael. Your mother still loves you. You know that.”

Raphael looks away from Magnus’s dark eyes and chews his lip. He _really_ doesn’t want to have this conversation. Not now and not ever. He thought Magnus out of all people would know what boundaries are, but he guesses he was mistaken.

“I paralyzed my own brother, Magnus,” he snaps, glaring at his friend over the table, “and I _killed_ my cousin. His blood is on _my hands!_ My aunt and uncle lost a child because I wasn’t paying attention. It’s hard enough to live with that without looking in my mother’s eyes. I’m just trying to make this easier for myself.”

“I know,” Magnus says, voice soft. He doesn’t seem bothered by Raphael’s loud tone in the slightest. “But that was _years_ ago, Raph. You can’t run from this. I know you miss them, so why are you torturing yourself like this?”

“I – ” Raphael starts, biting his tongue when he doesn’t know how to continue. He falls back into his chair, feeling as defeated as he always feels whenever people bring up his family.

“I just – I _can’t_ ,” he tries, voice breaking at the end.

Magnus looks at him, then nods.

“I understand,” he says.

Raphael knows he doesn’t.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys. GUYS. I wasn't planning on updating today but I just needed an outlet to say I went to see Rogue One yesterday and it FUCKED ME UP SO BAD. IT DESTROYED MY ENTIRE LIFE. PLEASE GO SEE IT AS SOON AS POSSIBLE IT WAS A LIFE CHANGING EXPERIENCE. Okay so also here's a new chapter!

Raphael tries deleting the email multiple times over the next few days, but he can never bring himself to actually do it. He keeps reading it, keeps imagining the anger this guy must’ve felt as he was typing away. Raphael would be angry too. And the more he reads the email, the more he feels the urge to prove him wrong. To prove everyone wrong. He doesn’t know exactly _what_ he would be proving, but that doesn’t make him want to do it any less.

He imagines what it would be like to come back home after years of avoiding his family. Knowing his mother, Christmas would still be celebrated modestly, just like when they were poor. It would just be his mother and his younger brothers. Christmas was a family holiday after all. You invited your extended family over for Thanksgiving, not Christmas. His mom would probably spend most of the day in the kitchen, cooking up a big meal for them all to feast on. She’d buy presents for all of them; a few but not enough to make them forget where they started years ago, when their Christmas presents still consisted of self-made toys. They’d spend the day in their pajamas and watch Christmas movie after Christmas movie, just relaxing and enjoying each other.

And the more he thinks about it, the more he wants to go. He’s longing for his mother’s embrace more than he’s done in _years_. Maybe loneliness finally caught up with him, or maybe that email stirred something inside of him that he has been trying to suppress for so long. But he wants to see his brothers. He wants to hold Diego and apologize and make it up to him. He wants to kiss his mother’s cheeks, smell her rose perfume. Suddenly the safety of his own apartment and the warmth of his dog aren’t enough for him anymore.

The turning point comes when Raphael is out shopping and notices a bookstand filled with the new Harry Potter books. He remembers that Lewis guy saying Diego would love a copy of _The Cursed Child,_ and before he even fully knows what he’s doing, he finds himself at the register ready to pay for the book.

Everything happens fast after that. He barely allows himself to put away his bags when he comes home and beelines to his bedroom, where he throws some clothes into a suitcase as he books the earliest flight to New Mexico. When that’s done, he speed dials Magnus.

“ _Hello?”_

“Magnus, I need you to take care of Apollo for a few weeks.”

_“You do realize I have two cats, right?”_

“ _Please_ , Mags. I can’t take him with me.”

_“With you? Wait, where are you going?”_

Raphael takes a deep breath, as if he’s dropping some big news, and says: “I’m visiting my family over the holidays.”

Magnus is quiet on the other end of the line for a heartbeat before chuckling softly.

“ _Of course I’ll take care of Apollo for a few weeks. Dry food only, right?”_

Raphael smiles into the phone.

“Right,” he says.

*

Magnus ends up actually having to walk Raphael to his gate because he thinks Raphael might change his mind at the last minute and run. Raphael pretends to be offended that his best friend would even _think_ something like that, but he wouldn’t put it past himself to actually cancel his flight and go back to his own apartment.

Magnus embraces him when the time has come to say goodbye. His hug is a bit tighter than usual and Magnus blinks suspiciously fast as he pulls back, but Raphael decides not to mention that.

“I’m proud of you,” Magnus says.

Raphael looks away quickly, embarrassed that his cheeks still flush at those words. Throughout the years, Magnus has been the only one to never stop believing in him. He was never shy to express his pride of him, to tell him how well he was doing. Magnus must’ve told him he’s proud of him more than a hundred times, but it still makes Raphael blush.

“I mean it, Rafa. I know it must be hard to take this step, but I’m so glad you decided to take it. Text me as soon as you land, okay? And call me if you need me.”

Raphael smiles up at him. He wants to express his gratitude to have been blessed with such an amazing, caring best friend, but he doesn’t want to make this goodbye more sentimental than it already is. He’s only going away for a couple of weeks. He’ll be back before Magnus can even start missing him.

“I really have to go now,” Raphael says. He gives Magnus a last quick hug, tells him he loves him and turns around.

“Say hi to your mom for me!” Magnus calls out.

Raphael turns back and rolls his eyes at him, but he’s already too far for Magnus to notice.

*

The flight to New Mexico may last for four hours, but it still goes by too quickly for Raphael. He spends the entire flight biting his nails, going through all the things that could possibly happen when he’s standing on his mother’s doorstep.

In the best case-scenario, his mother will open the door, pull him into her arms and tell him all is forgiven. She’d invite him in, all his brothers would gather around in the living room to greet him, and there would be a lot of hugs and kisses and tears.

In all the other case-scenarios he can come up with, there’s either shouting, accusing, hysterical crying or all of them combined.

By the time the plane lands, Raphael is an anxiety-ridden mess. His hands won’t stop trembling, he feels sick to his stomach, he’s sweating despite it freezing outside. The cab ride to his mother’s house only makes it worse. He calls Magnus at least five times on the short ride to his destination, asking him if he should just go back to the airport and hop on the first plane back to New York. Magnus calmly tells him he’ll kill him if he does.

He arrives around 8 in the evening. They’re expecting him because he emailed Simon back to let him know he was coming, but Raphael still thinks he could make a run for it without anyone noticing.

Unfortunately for him, the cab driver doesn’t wait around after being paid and immediately makes a U-turn back onto the road. Raphael watches him drive off until he can’t see him anymore, and then turns back around to the house looming in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for all the encouraging words! If you don't mind, please keep them coming! They really help me stay motivated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new chapter is here! Okay, so I'm currently almost 7k deep into this fic and I still don't really know where it's taking me, so this can either be an 8 chapter fic or a 33 chapter fic. I guess we'll just have to wait and see! This journey is honestly just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.

As he slowly approaches the front door, the only thing going through Raphael’s head is the memory of his mother on one of her Special Sundays.

When he and his brothers were little, his mother tried to make Sundays family days. It was the only day she didn’t have to work, and after church, they would all help move the furniture in their small apartment, put on some fluffy socks and shuffle over the floor to rapid Spanish music. His mother would twirl her children around, dance with them, sing loudly and off-tune. She did everything in her power to make Sundays the day to look forward to.

After the floor-dancing, they would all help her make some pancakes. Pancakes were a rare treat, something they only ate on Sundays, so they all cherished every last bite.

Though they didn’t have much, those days were the happiest.

Raphael wonders if they still have their Special Sundays. He imagines his brothers dancing and shuffling through the house, chasing each other and racing through the big rooms. The thought brings a smile to his face, but it falters immediately when he remembers Diego in his wheelchair.

He won’t be able to do a Special Sunday ever again, and it’s Raphael’s fault.

The feeling of dread and nausea is back and stronger than ever, making his limbs feel like lead as he drags himself to the front door. He climbs the stairs with pure terror racing through his veins, his entire frame trembling. He doesn’t think he can do this. He can’t look his mother in the eye and see the sorrow, the accusation. He can’t face his brothers or stay here any longer. He should just turn around and go back. Delete the email still sitting in his inbox, block the email-address and forget this whole thing.

But before he can even make his body turn around, someone opens the door and calls his name.

Raphael looks up, but the person standing in the doorway isn’t his mother or one of his brothers. In fact, he’s sure he has never seen this man before.

“Uh,” he starts, suddenly not even sure if this is the right address. Did his mom move?

The man smiles at him, bright and welcoming.

“I’m Simon,” he says. “The guy that sent you that email? Sorry for being so rude, by the way. Your mother scolded me for that. She can be really tough if she wants to. Anyway, you probably already knew that, giving that she’s your… you know, _mother_.”

“Wh – I’m sorry, but… _you’re_ the guy that sent me that email?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Raphael shrugs helplessly. Somehow, he’d expected his brother’s caregiver to be a man in his late thirties, not a guy his age. Guys his age aren’t really the caregiving type. Most of them are too busy attending college and getting wasted every weekend to care enough about other human beings to pursue that as a career.

Simon grins. “Oh, I know. I look too young to be a professional caregiver, right? I’m flattered. Did my email give off the vibe of a middle-aged man?”

“No- not necessarily. I’m just – I didn’t – I…” He lets out a deep breath. Out of all things he had prepared himself for, he wasn’t prepared for an attractive guy to open the door to his mother’s house and be cheeky with him. It’s throwing him completely off guard.

“I had a long flight,” he eventually manages to say.

“Oh, yeah! Of course. You must be tired and hungry and excited to see your family. I must say we’ve all been waiting for you to come inside and I was close to just coming out to grab you, but your mom insisted on waiting till you’d come by yourself.”

“Wait… were you all watching me?”

Simon nods.

“Yup. I thought you’d turn around and leave a couple of times. Thank god I was wrong. So, do you wanna come in?”

“Uh – yeah. I think so.”

Simon raises an eyebrow at him but steps aside to let him in anyway.

The hallway smells just like Raphael remembers; cinnamon and apple. He inhales deeply, trying to memorize the scent. Simon doesn’t say anything – just lets him take it in in peace. He patiently waits for Raphael to turn to him, expecting Simon to lead him to wherever his family is waiting. A huge part of him is still screaming to speed through the front door and never return, but he can’t ditch now. Not when there’s soft piano music coming from somewhere in the house and the familiar scent of _home_ is lingering all around him.

“This way,” Simon says, leading him through the hallway and into the living room. Raphael fully expects his entire family to be sitting there waiting for him, but there’s nobody there.

“Your mother told your brothers to wait in Diego’s room. She figured this must all be a lot for you to take in and she didn’t want to just dump it all on you.”

Raphael swallows thickly at the words. Tears are already clouding his vision, and he hasn’t even seen his family yet. But just the thought that his mother would still be considerate enough to make this easier for him, the possibility that she might still love him like she used to… it’s like a fist has wrapped around his throat.

Simon notices the shift in Raphael’s emotions and smiles encouragingly at him.

“Why don’t you take a seat,” he suggests. “I’ll go get Guadalupe for you.”

Raphael nods weakly, letting himself sink onto the soft couch he remembers buying for his mother. Simon leaves to go fetch Guadalupe, and the silence in the room allows Raphael’s anxiety to creep up on him again. His entire body starts shaking as he awaits his mother. He starts sweating and his stomach flips and he’s scared he might throw up or faint or maybe possibly even die. His mouth is impossibly dry, his tongue feeling thick and heavy. He imagines his mother walking in and not being able to utter a single word as she looks at him with pure rejection in her eyes. She’d take one look at him, at his pale cheeks and big eyes and trembling hands, and will tell him to leave her property. That she did not raise such a coward. That she is ashamed to call him her son.

It takes long enough for his mother to come for Raphael to spiral into one of the worst states of mind he has ever been in. He’s trying desperately to not have a full-blown panic attack, taking deep breaths and trying to think about anything but where he is and what he’s doing. He grips his phone in his pocket, considering calling Magnus for support.

He doesn’t do it, though. He just grips his phone tighter, the thought of Magnus telling him how proud he is calming him enough to pull himself out of the almost-panic attack.

And then, after having waited for what feels like a century, the door to the living room opens. Raphael can barely force himself to look up and watch his mother as she steps into the room, quiet and graceful.

Despite not having seen her in years, she doesn’t look like she has changed a bit. Her hair is still long and black as the night, elegantly braided and draped over one shoulder. She has some wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, but she’s still stunning.

Guadalupe was never tall. Raphael was as tall as her when he was only thirteen. But now, as he is in her house after having been away for so long, he feels like a boy again. Like she’s still towering over him like she did when he was six.

Neither of them says anything for a heartbeat. Guadalupe watches her son intently, dark eyes scanning his face. Raphael can’t bear to look her in the eye as she observes him, looks anywhere to avoid her gaze. He wishes he could disappear so he wouldn’t have to squirm under her eyes.

“Raphael,” she eventually says. She pronounces his name exactly like she used to, with her beautiful Mexican accent and full of love. The way she says it, the way his name rolls off her tongue, makes tears spill from Raphael’s eyes.

Finally, _finally_ , he meets her gaze. Her eyes are soft and warm, not cold and distant like he’d imagined. And he breaks.

“ _Mama_ ,” he sobs. Somehow, despite trembling like a leaf, he manages to get up from the couch and walk over to her. He grabs both her hands in his, squeezes them tightly and falls onto his knees.

“ _Mama_ , please forgive me. _Por favor perdóname_.”

“ _Mijo_ ,” his mother says. Softly, lovingly. As if all distance and time and guilt has fallen away between them. She gets onto her knees too, lifting Raphael’s chin up so he can look at her. “You are my son and I love you. I will always love you.”

Another sob escapes his lips. He starts crying uncontrollably, all the shame and guilt and anxiety having to find an outlet. His mother embraces him, stroking his hair as she shushes him. Raphael clings onto the back of her blouse as if he’s a child again.

He may have entered her house minutes ago, but only now, in his mother’s arms, it truly feels like coming home.

*

They sit like that for seconds or minutes or maybe even hours. Guadalupe runs her fingers through Raphael’s hair as she hums old lullabies, just like she used to when Raphael would wake up out of a nightmare. Raphael’s fingers become sore and stiff from gripping into the fabric of his mother’s blouse too hard, but not a force of nature could make him let go. It’s been too long since he last felt his mother’s arms around him, since he smelled her perfume or felt her heart beat steadily against his chest. He tries to cherish this moment for as long as he can.

“Raphael,” his mother eventually says. “Your brothers would like to see you too.”

Raphael jerks his head up, suddenly alarmed. Somehow, the thought of also having to face his brothers had slipped his mind. His brothers, whom he hasn’t seen in three years. Who have probably grown and changed and formed an opinion on him. Diego, Julian, Daniel.

“Can I call them in?” Guadalupe asks when he doesn’t respond. Raphael blinks at her, jaw slacking. It’s as if he has suddenly lost the ability to form words.

His mother smiles encouragingly at him as she cups his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” she promises, “they all really want to see you.”

“Even…” Raphael swallows thickly and clears his throat, “even Diego?”

Guadalupe nods.

“Even Diego.”

Raphael’s heart clenches painfully in his chest. His brother, disabled for life because of him, wants to see him? Surely only to show him how he ruined his life. Surely only to tell him they’re no longer brothers.

Guadalupe clacks her tongue disapprovingly as she watches her son spiral again. She pulls him to his feet and cups his cheeks, forcing him to meet her stern gaze.

“Do not think the worst, Raphael. Your brothers have missed you. _Diego_ has missed you. Just talk to them.”

Raphael chews his lip – a remaining habit from when he was still a kid – and eventually nods. He guesses he can’t put this off any longer.

His mother smiles at him, all love and no rejection, and calls for his brothers to come. Her command is almost immediately followed by quick footsteps echoing through the house, and then his three brothers are entering the room, big-eyed and buzzing with excitement.

The first thing Raphael notices is Diego in his wheelchair. He’s changed a lot since he last saw him; he’s taller, his hair is longer and his face sharper. But his eyes are still as big and brown as they used to be.

“Diego,” Raphael says, voice barely louder than a whisper. His legs start trembling and he’s scared he’ll collapse onto the floor again, but before he can, Julian steps forward and takes his hand. He leads him to the couch without uttering a single word, then takes place next to him. Diego and Daniel follow suit.

“I – ” Raphael starts, the words getting stuck in his throat. “You’ve all… you’ve all grown so much.”

“That’s what happens in three years,” Diego says, not necessarily cold or harsh, but just… distant. Just distant.

Raphael nods, unsure of what to say or do next. Daniel probably doesn’t even remember him – he was only three when the accident happened.

“Daniel,” their mother says, “why don’t you show Raphael the drawing you made for him?”

“Okay!” Daniel says, hopping off the couch to go get his drawing.

“He started it as soon as he found out you were coming,” she explains. “I’ve told him a lot about you, you know. I told all of them a lot about you.”

“Like what?” Raphael asks.

“Everything,” Julian replies. “Is it really true you’re everyone’s boss? And that you can tell everyone what to do? And are you really rich?” His questions are all full of excitement, maybe even close to admiration.

Raphael chuckles softly.

“I do own a company, which means I am the boss of some people. And I make a decent amount of money. I’m not really rich, though.”

“But you bought us this house!”

Raphael nods, briefly looks at his mother before looking back to his brother. “You deserved it,” he says.

Daniel comes running back in with his drawing at that point. He climbs back onto the couch, shuffling between Julian and Raphael, and holds his drawing up for Raphael to see.

“See, that’s us!” Daniel explains, pointing at what looks like their brothers, Daniel himself and their mother all standing in front of a house. “And that’s you! See, you’re in the plane.” He points at a plane flying over the house, with a figure waving and smiling through the window.

“Ah, I see,” Raphael smiles.

Daniel holds the drawing out to him.

“It’s for you! Do you always wear suits? I need to know for my next drawing.”

“No, not always. It’s just something I have to wear for work.”

Daniel gasps softly.

“Like a superhero costume?” He asks.                                              

Raphael laughs.

“Yeah, a bit like that. Anything else you want to know?”

“Yes,” Diego interrupts. He looks Raphael straight in the eye, lips pressed into a thin line. “Why’d you leave?”

Raphael’s breath catches in his throat.

“I – I’m… _Diego_ …”

“Another question: why didn’t you ever come back? Why did you disappear for three years?”

“Diego, _please_ – ”

“No,” Diego snaps. “Answer the questions.”

“Don’t be mean!” Daniel says. “Mom told you why! Raphael was just busy making sure we could stay in this house and eat nice food and have lots of stuff to play with.”

“Shut up, Daniel. That’s not really why he didn’t come back.” Diego looks back at Raphael, his eyes suddenly spitting fire. “So tell me what was.”

 _Because I ruined your life_ , Raphael wants to say. _Because you will never walk or run or swim again. Because the doctors thought you were going to die. Because our cousin was killed in the accident. And it was all my fault_.

But he can’t say any of that. So Diego just glares at him and Daniel and Julian stare at him and Raphael has nowhere to look except the floor. He knew this was gonna happen. He knew Diego would still hate him, and with good reason. Why shouldn’t he hate him? Raphael sure does.

“Boys,” Guadalupe says eventually, when the silence almost becomes unbearable, “why don’t we let Raphael settle down for a bit? He must be worn out from the long flight. Raphael, why don’t you go upstairs? Simon will point you to the guest room. Dinner will be ready in an hour.”

Raphael nods stiffly, standing immediately. He clenches Daniel’s drawing in his hands and walks out of the living room into the hallway, where Simon is trying to look like he hadn’t been eavesdropping.

“Uh,” Simon says, looking as if he just got caught stealing something, “need some help with your bags?”

“No, I got it,” Raphael says curtly, lifting his bag up to swing it over his shoulder.

“Oh wow,” Simon says. “Strong.”

Raphael squints at him, not sure where exactly Simon is going with this. Simon shakes his head and smiles apologetically up at him.

“Anyway, I’ll show you to your room. Come on.”

To Simon’s credit, he probably rants about growing up in New York on their way to Raphael’s room to distract Raphael from the disaster that just took place in the living room. But god _damn_ , that man can talk. He only needs a nudge to set off on a ramble about literally the most random subjects.

By the time they finally reach the guest room, Raphael knows suspiciously more about comic book stores in Brooklyn than ever before.

“Here we are,” Simon says, swinging the door open for Raphael to enter.

“Our rooms are connected by a shared bathroom, so just lock my door to the bathroom if you want to use it. And if you need me, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks,” Raphael mumbles. Honestly, he really doesn’t want to make small talk with this guy. He just wants to get changed into something more comfortable, get in bed and sleep forever.

“Okay,” Simon says, “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll come get you for dinner.”

“Mhh,” Raphael hums.

Simon nods and walks back to the door.

“Oh, and Raphael?” He says before leaving, “don’t feel bad about Diego. He’s just – he’s _angry_. I think you just need to talk to him.”

“Okay,” Raphael says.

“Okay,” Simon repeats, and closes the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's age in case anyone was confused:  
> Guadalupe: 46  
> Raphael: 25  
> Simon: 24  
> Diego: 14  
> Julian: 11  
> Daniel: 6


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: the car accident is described here. Nothing too vivid, but it does mention the death of a minor. Heads up!
> 
> Omg guys I'm trying to write this fic as fast as I can, especially because there's a chapter I wanna post on Christmas Eve but I'm nowhere near that chapter yet in the fic so I'm just like the Kermit typing on a typewriter meme.
> 
> ANYWAY I hope you enjoy this one! Raphael and Simon finally get to talk more than two lines of dialogue!

Dinner is better than Raphael had thought. It’s a bit awkward the first fifteen minutes, mostly because he’s too busy trying to find the appropriate thing to say. Luckily, Simon seems to be just as uncomfortable with the silence around the table and quickly finds a topic to discuss.

“So, Raphael,” he says halfway through the meal, pointing his fork at him, “tell us a bit about New York.”

“Uh, well… I own a business in men’s fashion and – ”

“No, no,” Simon interrupts. “Not the _boring_ stuff. Tell us something interesting. Like… have you ever met Spiderman?”

Daniel gasps softly. “Spiderman?” He squeals.

“Yeah,” Simon nods solemnly. “Spiderman lives in New York, and since your big bro lives there…”

Daniel turns to Raphael, mashed potatoes on his fork forgotten as he drops it back onto his plate and dedicates his full attention to his older brother.

“Did you see him?” He asks breathlessly.

The rest of the meal mostly consists of Raphael making up stories about thinking he might have seen Spiderman that one time and that he thinks Peter Parker himself has been to one of his clothing stores to look for a fitting suit.

“Yeah,” Raphael boasts, “I think I saw a glimpse of his suit underneath the collar of his shirt.”

His two other brothers, both too old to still believe in superheroes, let Raphael make up stories about Spiderman and even ask questions to make it seem more believable. Simon is mostly quiet, but he’s grinning in his seat throughout the meal. Raphael makes a mental note to thank him when he gets the chance.

Guadalupe sends her three youngest sons to their rooms after dinner, asking Simon and Raphael to help her clean up. Simon and Guadalupe joke a bit as they’re cleaning up, and Raphael feels an annoying flare of irrational jealousy in the pit of his stomach. Rationally, he can’t expect his mother to not be friendly to the man that spends his entire days caring for one of her sons. But he can’t help but feel like Simon has somehow replaced him over the years. It’s an ugly thought, one he’s immediately embarrassed about having. Simon doesn’t deserve to be the subject of his envy. He has done nothing but help Raphael’s family when he was too cowardly to do so. Raphael owes him more than he could ever imagine.

“Alright, I’ll go check on Diego and then I’m off to my room too,” Simon says when all the dishes are put away. He dries his hand with a towel and smiles at Raphael as he passes him to get out of the kitchen.

Guadalupe watches him go and then turns back to Raphael.

“Take a seat,” she says. Raphael obeys without question and sits down at the kitchen table. His mother takes her time making some coffee for them and places a cup in front of his face before sitting down herself.

“I think we should talk,” she starts.

Raphael nods in agreement, wrapping his hands around the hot cup of coffee. The heat of the cup helps him ground himself.

“First of all, Raphael, I truly want you to know that I never blamed you. What happened was a tragedy, one a family should never have to deal with. But it happened, and now we have to live with the consequences.”

“The _consequences_ ,” Raphael huffs, staring into his coffee. “Diego will never walk again, _mama_. Oscar _died_.”

Guadalupe shakes her head, reaches across the table to take Raphael’s hand.

“You know what the police told me? That if you hadn’t driven off the road and had been hit frontally by that truck, you would all be dead. You did the best you could. If you had done nothing, I would not be sitting here with you. Diego would not be in his room now. Our family would have lost three children.”

“But – ”

“Stop blaming yourself, _mijo_. No matter how you see it, how you twist and turn it. You did not ruin Diego’s life. You _saved_ it.”

Raphael exhales shakily.

“I don’t think he sees it the same way,” he mutters.

His mother hushes him. “You need to talk to him. He hasn’t seen you in three years and he’s angry, but not for the reason you think he is. Hey.” She squeezes his hand, causing Raphael to look up into her eyes. “Do you know why I named you Raphael?”

“Because he was an angel?”

“No. Because it means _God heals_. This might all seem unfixable and broken now, but in the end, I’m sure you’ll find a way to make this right. God heals all wounds.”

Raphael nods. His mother’s words calm his nerves enough for him to actually enjoy this time with her alone. He squeezes her hand back and continues asking her about what has happened here in the years that he’d been gone. Guadalupe tells him about hiring Simon because she wasn’t qualified enough to look after Diego by herself, how he’s been such a help both to Diego as to the others. And she tells him about the volunteering she’s doing at the local animal shelter, to which Raphael replies he has a dog back in New York. They laugh and talk together, almost as if he never left in the first place. The weight that had been dragging him down since the accident seems to be slowly disappearing off his shoulders. It’s still there, but not as heavy as it used to be. He does beat himself up about the fact that it had taken him this long to reconnect with his family. If he’d just done it sooner, if he’d just been braver than he was, then he wouldn’t have lost so many years away from his loved ones.

By the end of the night, when it’s past midnight, Raphael feels like he hadn’t seen his mother for three days, not three years. It all just feels so… natural between them. As if they never stopped talking. His mother gossips to him about the neighbors just like she used to, tells him about new baking recipes, tells him what happened to all the families they used to go to church with. Raphael didn’t realize how much he had missed the casual conversations between them until now.

“It’s getting late,” Guadalupe eventually says. “We should go to bed.”

Raphael agrees and helps her put their cups away. She links her arm with his as they walk through the dining room to the hallway.

“Simon is taking the boys into the city tomorrow,” she says as they walk upstairs. “I think you should go with them. Reconnect with your brothers.”

“That’s a great idea,” Raphael nods. Surely spending some quality time with them can help rebuilding their bond.

They hug goodnight in front of his mother’s bedroom door. Raphael knocks on Simon’s door and wishes him a good night before entering his own room.

Once in bed, he texts Magnus about the recent developments. He replies with an obnoxiously long string of emojis that make Raphael smile nevertheless and then sends another text reminding Raphael of how proud he is of him.

Raphael quickly tells him to shut up and then puts away his phone, settling further into his mattress.

The last thing he thinks about before drifting to sleep is his mother’s perfume and how her arms had felt around him, just like he had hoped them to be.

*

The nightmare is the same one Raphael has had since the accident three years ago. He’s back in his car, carelessly chatting with Oscar in the passenger seat. His cousin had been sixteen at the time, just in high school. Raphael thought he had it all figured it out back then; blooming business on his name, a house for his family that he’d bought, not having to even _look_ at the price tag on stuff before buying it anymore. He’d thought he was the perfect person to give Oscar some valuable life advice, so they spent most of the car ride back home from the city talking about school and girls and going to parties.

Diego had been sitting in the back. Raphael vividly remembers Oscar and him doing rock, paper, scissors before getting into the car to see who got to ride shot gun. Oscar won.

It was a cold, icy day outside that day. The roads were slippery and wet, but Raphael didn’t really adjust his driving. Nothing ever happened on the road home. It was a safe, boring road with barely any traffic on it. He could drive it blindly.

Diego had made some kind of remark about something that caused Oscar to turn around in his seat and start a heated discussion with him. Looking back at it, Raphael doesn’t even remember what it was about. It must’ve been quite important, though, because both of them were excitedly yelling over the music. It was hard to concentrate with those two in the car.

Two seconds. Two seconds of Raphael looking behind him to Diego was all that it took. Everything happened really fast after that.

Oscar screamed. Raphael turned back to the road, saw the truck coming towards them. Its driver had lost control of the wheel on the slippery road. He only had two options: to get hit directly, or to swerve off the road into the bushes and hope for the best.

So Raphael yanked at the wheel, but the wet road caused his tires to slip and spin. He didn’t get to the side of the road fast enough; the truck hit them full speed on the passenger’s side, somehow flipping the car onto its roof.

Raphael is sure he has blocked a lot of memories of the accident. Even in his dreams, he can’t remember what happened between getting hit by the truck and getting pulled out of his car by the police. But he does remember Oscar’s body: broken and bloody and very, very still as he lied there. What made it final was the paramedics gently placing a white sheet over him.

Diego had been unconscious at the time. He too was bleeding _everywhere_ , and Raphael had thought that he was dead too.

In reality, they brought him and Diego to the hospital, where Diego would stay for three weeks before waking up out of his coma.

In his dream, however, Raphael cradles his broken body as Diego dies a slow, painful death. His agonizing screams sound so real that he can still hear them every time he wakes up.

Tonight isn’t any different; Raphael has that same dream, and Diego dies in his arms, and he wakes up screaming and sobbing.

The difference is that this time, he doesn’t wake up to an empty apartment. He wakes up in a full house, with a very light sleeper in the room right next to his.

Simon bursts into his room literal _seconds_ after Raphael screamed himself awake. He’s holding a baseball bat and looks around the room in bewilderment, hair standing up on one side of his head and his shirt pulled on backwards.

“Where’s the fire?” He grumbles drowsily. He squints into the darkness, probably attempting to look threatening to possible intruders, but it just makes him look more disorientated and sleepy.

“Nowhere,” Raphael mutters, embarrassment flushing his cheeks.

“I heard you scream,” Simon says, voice croaking. “I know for a fact I did. You gotta be a light sleeper if you wanna be a 24/7 caregiver. So don’t try to deny it.”

Raphael glares at him, though he doubts Simon even notices.

“Just a nightmare,” he says defensively.

“Oh,” Simon says. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Alright. Wanna… talk about something else?”

“Simon, no offense, but it’s 2am. Why do you wanna talk about _anything_?”

Simon shrugs helplessly. “Well, we’re both awake anyway. And we haven’t really talked a lot since you arrived. I mean, I purposely stepped back so you could reconnect with your family and such, but I do really think we should have at least one conversation. We’re gonna be living together for at least a few weeks, assuming you’re staying until after New Year’s. So we should definitely get to know each other to not make every meal really awkward because it’ll will feel like dining with a stranger and – ”

“You talk a lot, don’t you?” Raphael interrupts. He throws back his covers and gets out of bed, walking over to Simon.

“Come on then,” he says with a jerk of his head, “I enjoy talking with a hot beverage.”

 

Simon prides himself in apparently being the king of making hot chocolate. He makes them both a steaming mug and adds marshmallows and whipped cream, sprinkled with a bit of cinnamon. Then he sits down at the kitchen table right where Raphael’s mother had sat mere hours before and looks at him expectantly. Raphael starts to suspect he’ll be sitting and talking at this table a lot in the next couple of days.

“What?” Raphael asks when seconds have passed and Simon still hasn’t said anything.

“You said I talked too much!” Simon replies. “So I’m gonna let you do all the talking. And I’ll just listen.”

Raphael grumbles into his mug. “I preferred you when you talked so much I couldn’t even hear myself think.”

“Hey! In my defense, we only really talked twice.”

“Yeah, and both times I had to interrupt your rambling.”

“I ramble, okay? Get over it. Anyway, back to you. If you don’t want to tell me about the nightmare, tell me something else.”

“Like what?”

“ _Anything_. Jesus, dude. One would think you’re not used to having conversations with other human beings.”

Raphael doesn’t know why, but that gets a chuckle out of him. Simon’s face brightens when he sees he made Raphael smile.

“Okay, tell you what. I’ll tell you something about me, and then you can tell me something about you. That sound fair to you?”

Raphael nods. “Go right ahead,” he says with a small hand gesture.

Simon thinks for a few moments before he starts.

“My dad died when I was eight. In some ways, though I was still very young, I think his passing has partly shaped me as a person. With everything I did, I asked myself if my dad would approve. I got straight A’s in high school, dated girls with respectable backgrounds, got into college to major in Accounting. But I also suffered from severe anxiety. I didn’t like college. I skipped all my classes, failed my first semester.” He stirs his chocolate milk as he talks, shoulders hunched and eyes averted. It’s obvious to Raphael that this was a hard time in Simon’s life.

“Anyway, I went to a therapist, who suggested doing something with my life I actually enjoyed. I realized then that up to that point, I had been living my life like I thought my dad wanted me to. Once I stopped doing that and did what _I_ wanted to do, I immediately got a lot happier.”

“And what you wanted to do happened to be being a professional caregiver?”

Simon grins up at him, all teeth and squinty eyes and _warmth_. Raphael realizes that everything about Simon’s appearance, mannerisms and speech radiates off this certain warmth and comfort. Though not knowing why, Raphael feels weirdly comfortable around him. He guesses that’s a good quality to have if you make a living out of caring for people.

 “Yeah! I just… I _love_ people, man. And I love helping them. So I got my nursing degree and specialized in caring for disabled children, and here I am!”

“I bet Diego is really happy to have you here.”

“Oh, for sure! We’re like, best friends.” Simon’s smile suddenly falls, eyes turning big as he looks at Raphael. “I – uh, don’t mean to imply that I somehow replaced you as his big brother, though! He still talks about you a lot. He really missed you. _Misses_ you.”

Raphael lets his gaze drop. “Doesn’t seem like it,” he says. “It seems more like he hates me.”

“Adolescent rage,” Simon explains. “He doesn’t _hate_ you. He just doesn’t know what to do with the anger and feeling of rejection.”

“Wait – feeling of rejection?” Raphael asks, confused.

Simon looks at him like he’s a bit slow in the head, raising one eyebrow.

“Yes. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that you left him after the accident. He feels like he wasn’t good enough for you. That you were embarrassed to have a disabled brother and that you were running away from him.”

Raphael’s jaw falls open in shock. Not once in the three years he’s been away from home did he think about it like _that_. He thought Diego must hate him for doing that to him, and that it was for the best for everyone if Raphael just left. He _never_ thought Diego would feel _rejected_. But now that Simon has told him, it makes sense. _Fuck_ , it makes sense. How self-absorbed must he have been to not realize not everything in the world is about him and that other people have feelings too? And why did he never think about how it must’ve felt like for Diego to see his big brother leave and not return?

“I – fuck. _Shit_ , I really messed up, didn’t I?”

Simon shrugs. “You kinda did. But it’s not too late to make things right.”

“ _How_?”

“Well, for starters, you could just talk to him. You know what, we’re going into the city tomorrow. Come with us and I’ll make sure to entertain the younger ones while you and Diego sit down and talk it out. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Raphael nods. “I need to make it up to him.”

Simon smiles encouragingly up at him. Raphael has noticed Simon is really good at that – being encouraging.

“Don’t worry. You will. It’ll just take some time.”

“Thank god I’m not going anywhere in the foreseeable future.”

Simon fully grins now.

“Yeah, thank god.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please continue to leave encouraging comments, they really help a lot!!
> 
> Also I love all of you reading this a lot!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's more Saphael in this one, but also still Raphael trying to reconnect with his family. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal at the start of this, but I really needed to dedicate enough time to Raphael reconnecting with his family before I could give the necessary attention to Simon and Raphael together.

Daniel wakes him up the next morning. Raphael is still tired and grumpy, not being a morning person _at all_ , but he offers his brother a smile anyway. Daniel crawls over him and settles next to him, spending the next twenty minutes showing Raphael his two action figures of Captain America and Iron Man and telling him all about them.

When he’s right in the middle of explaining how Captain America was frozen for a very long time, Simon peeks his head around Raphael’s door.

“Daniel!” He tuts, “you were supposed to go wake your brother, not occupy him for twenty minutes when we have places to be. Come on, go get dressed!”

“But I was just telling Raphael – ”

“You can tell him in the car. Come on, little man! I bet you can’t get dressed faster than the Flash.”

“Oh, just watch!” Daniel yells, hopping off the bed and speeding out of the room. Simon chuckles to himself and then fully steps into Raphael’s room, holding up a cup of coffee.

“Your mom told me you drink your coffee black,” he says as he crosses the space between the door and Raphael’s bed.

Raphael raises an eyebrow at the other man.

“You brought me coffee?”

“Don’t read too much into it,” Simon says as he hands him the coffee. “I figured you didn’t get a lot of sleep when we both finally went back to bed, so this is like… an apology.”

“An apology? Why would you have to apologize for talking to me?”

“Well, firstly, it was the middle of the night. Secondly, I feel like I find of forced you to. So I apologize.”

Raphael snickers and shakes his head. “There’s nothing to apologize for, Simon. I enjoyed our talk. You’re – you’re nice to talk to. Comforting.”

Simon beams at him.

“Part-time caregiver, part-time therapist,” he winks.

Raphael rolls his eyes at him and jerks his head to the door.

“Now, go away so I can get dressed.”

Simon salutes him, turns around on his heels and marches out of Raphael’s room.

 

In Raphael’s defense, there were so many things going on in his head that he didn’t even consider which road they would have to drive down to get to the city.

The same city he took Oscar and Diego to years ago.

The same road where he crashed his car.

Raphael doesn’t like having panic attacks in general, but he certainly doesn’t like having them around people. So he tries to be as quiet as he can as he shakes in the passenger seat, his brothers oblivious to his struggle in the backseat and Simon humming along to a song on the radio. He sits on his hands to try to make them stop shaking, tries to control his breathing, closes his eyes to picture a calm beach instead of the road. But he can feel how slippery it is, can hear Simon occasionally cursing under his breath when he almost slips.

Without any traffic, it takes exactly seventeen minutes to get from the house to the city. Raphael knows this because he’s driven down this road countless of times, calculating how much time he’d have left to get to the store before it closed or texting his mom to let her know when he’d be home.

So he sits there, eyes closed and head resting against the window, counting every single second until Simon finally parks and turns off the engine.

Raphael is the first one out of the van, head spinning and legs trembling. He takes deep, calming breaths to try and slow his heartrate and sits down on a nearby bench while Simon helps Diego in his wheelchair out of the van.

Julian is by his side in seconds, staring up at him in concern.

“Everything alright?” He asks.

Raphael tries to smile at him, but he’s still dizzy and shaky.

“Yeah, just – I don’t like that road.”

“Oh,” Julian says. “Diego used to not like it either. He went to therapy for it, though. Do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

Julian chews his lip for a moment before getting off the bench.

“You should,” he says before walking back to the van, where Diego is now also out in the fresh air.

 _Yeah_ , Raphael thinks. _I really should_.

 

“Alright, boys,” Simon announces once they’re by a fountain in the middle of a square, “we have a lot of stuff to do today. We need to buy some last minute Christmas gifts, your mother would love for you all to find some nice Christmas sweaters to wear and I need to run some errands for her so she can cook a nice Christmas dinner. I suggest we split our forces. Julian, Daniel, you two can come with me for the day. Diego, go with Raphael.”

Diego glares at Raphael. Raphael tries to not let it affect him, but all the courage he had to talk to his younger brother immediately evaporates.

“Oh, man,” Julian complains, kicking at some invisible dirt, “we have to go _errand shopping_? How lame.”

“The less you complain the quicker it’ll go and the quicker we can go look for some Christmas presents. Come on, we’ll meet back here in an hour.”

“What are we supposed to do if you go run errands?” Diego wants to know.

Simon nods at Raphael. “Your big brother over there makes a living out of clothing. You two are gonna look for some fun Christmas sweaters.”

“Great,” Diego mutters, rolling himself away.

“Back in an hour!” Simon reminds him. He gives Raphael a thumbs up before leading the other two away. Raphael takes a deep breath, gives himself a mental pep talk and runs after Diego.

“So,” he starts,” uh – a lot of shops changed. You know some good stores to start?”

Diego huffs, angrily rolling himself forward. “The shops aren’t the only thing that changed in the three years you’ve been gone. But of course you wouldn’t know that.”

“Diego – ”

“Whatever, dude. Let’s just do this and get it over with. I wouldn’t want to keep you occupied longer than absolutely necessary.”

“You’re not occupying me.”

“Still. I would hate to embarrass you in front of all these people.”

“Diego, you’re not embarrassing me. Can you – can you just stop moving for a second, please?”

Diego moves his arms more angrily now, jerking at the wheels of his wheelchair to move him forward. Raphael has to jog to keep up with him and reaches out to grab the handles of the wheelchair, forcing Diego to stop.

“Diego, _stop_ ,” he insists. Diego growls and turns around to face him. Raphael is surprised to see he’s fighting back tears.

“ _What_? What do you want, Raphael? As if it isn’t bad enough that you completely abandoned me when I needed you most. Now you’re just back and want to pretend like it didn’t even happen? Fuck you. I fucking _hate_ you.”

Diego’s words make Raphael flinch as if he’d just been hit in the face. He gasps for air, ignoring the sudden nausea in the pit of his stomach.

“I thought – ” He starts, voice small and vulnerable, “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“Why would I – ” Diego angrily wipes his tears away and curses. “Shit. I don’t wanna cry.”

Raphael motions over to a bench away from the crowd. “Let’s go over there to talk.”

His brother doesn’t say anything as he rolls himself to the bench and waits for Raphael to sit down. Raphael looks down to his hands in his lap as he tries to find the right words.

“After the accident,” he says, already sounding breathless, “I thought you blamed me. I thought you hated me for putting you in that wheelchair, for taking away your life. So I thought it would be better for everyone if I just… if I just left. Mom wouldn’t have to look at the son that put her other son in a wheelchair for life, you wouldn’t have to live in the same house as me. I thought it would be better.”

Diego’s face seems to soften, even if it’s only a little.

“You know you saved my life, right? I would’ve been dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Oscar is.”

“He is,” Diego nods, averting his gaze. “And we all still miss him. But it was an accident. And not your fault. I just… I don’t understand why you didn’t just talk to me.”

Raphael shakes his head.

“I guess I was too scared to. Too scared to actually hear you say you wanted me to leave. So I just left, _assuming_ that’s what you wanted.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I know that now. And I’m so sorry, Diego. I wish I could even _begin_ to tell you how sorry I am. If I’d known, if I’d just been smart enough to _ask_ you what you wanted…” A tear drips onto Raphael’s pants, and he swiftly wipes his eyes with his thumb. To his surprise, Diego reaches out to cover the hand still in his lap with his own.

“I missed you,” he says when Raphael looks up. He even offers him a small, careful smile. “I mean, Simon is great and all, but he’s not you.”

Raphael squeezes Diego’s hand.

“I missed you too, little bro. I missed everyone. It’s nice to be back.”

Diego nods in agreement, then pulls back his hand.

“I’m still angry at you,” he explains. “But I don’t – I don’t hate you.”

“I swear I’ll make it up to you,” Raphael promises.

“You can start by helping me find a nice Christmas sweater,” Diego replies, gesturing to the stores down the road.

 

They end up finding everyone a great sweater. Diego chooses a grey one with Santa holding a cellphone, the caption reading ‘you used to call me on my elf-phone’, Raphael buys Julian a blue one with a sloth wrapped into a thick scarf with the caption ‘take it slow in the snow’ because Diego tells him Julian has A Thing for sloths now, and he gets Daniel a black sweater with Captain America’s shield in the form of a snowflake on it.

“Do you think we should buy Simon one too?” Raphael asks as he pushes Diego out of the store.

“He’s Jewish,” Diego shrugs, “I don’t think he would wear a Christmas sweater.”

“Mhh,” Raphael hums. It somehow feels wrong to not buy something for Simon. Despite only knowing him for two days, Raphael can feel how deeply intertwined he is with his family. It’s obvious his little brothers all really love him, so it wouldn’t be fair to leave him out of the holiday spirit.

“Will you excuse me for a moment,” Raphael says, whipping out his phone. “Why don’t you hand me the bags and go get us two hot chocolates over there?” He suggests as he points at a coffee truck nearby.

“Okay,” Diego says, slyly stealing Raphael’s wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“How’d you – ” Raphael wonders, to which Diego replies: “A lot of practice with Simon as my innocent victim.”

Raphael shakes his head at him but lets him roll himself to the coffee truck with his wallet, while Raphael dials Magnus’s number. The other man picks up in a heartbeat.

_“Rafa! How’s it going? Still alive? Did your family welcome you back with open arms? Did Guadalupe ask about me?”_

“Alright, yes, kind of, and no.”

“ _Me too, nice, nice, and rude. She used to be like a mother to me when we were both still in high school.”_

“ _Not_ the point of this phone call, Bane.”

“ _Alright, alright. What is?”_

“Can you do me a favor and order me a Chanukah sweater?” Raphael thinks for a second and then remembers seeing Simon wearing a Star Wars shirt the other day. “Preferably one with a Star Wars themed Menorah,” he adds.

_“Uh, any specific reason?”_

“Yes, it’s for this guy that works here. The one that sent me that email?”

 _“Oh, a Jewish guy, huh?_ ” Magnus says suggestively. Raphael can almost _hear_ the eyebrow wiggle.

“Stop, it’s not like that.”

“ _Oh, come on. Is he hot? Wait, is he your age? He isn’t, like, in his forties, right? Would you do him?”_

“Magnus, behave yourself.”

_“At least answer one of the questions!”_

“Fine; yes.”

“ _Yes to what? Is he hot? Or your age? Or in his forties? Or would you do him?”_

“Just order that damn sweater, alright?”

_“Why must you torture me like this?”_

“Bye, Magnus. I’ll call you on Christmas.”

 _“Fine,”_ Magnus huffs, “ _talk to you later.”_

 

They meet the others back at the fountain. Simon grins at Raphael when he notices he’s pushing Diego’s wheelchair as they’re chatting away. Diego shows off the sweaters while Raphael helps Simon put the groceries in the trunk of the van.

After doing some last minute Christmas shopping, which mostly consists of Simon telling the boys that they're all only allowed _one_ more gift, they go ice skating. Diego gets a special wheelchair to go on the ice and they all take turns pushing him around the rink. Raphael stays with him the most; partly because he wants to talk to him, but also because he’s the worst at keeping his balance on the ice and uses Diego’s wheelchair to not fall over every five seconds.

Raphael and Simon both get tired of it after half an hour. They leave the three other boys on the rink as they get themselves some apple cider and watch them skate and laugh together.

“Did you talk to Diego?” Simon wonders, taking a sip of his drink.

“Mhh,” Raphael nods. “I think we’re good now. It’s still not _all_ alright, of course. But we’re getting there.”

“Good,” Simon smiles, “I’m happy it’s all working out for you.”

“It took me your angry email to finally come over, though.”

Simon makes a face at him. “Yeah, sorry again. I should’ve probably worded it differently.”

“No, honestly, if you had I would probably not have come. So thank you, Simon. Really.”

Simon blushes and tries to hide it by taking another sip of his cider, pulling his beanie further over his ears.

He’s cute. Raphael had noticed before, but he’d been so busy worrying about his family that he didn’t really pay attention to it. But Simon is _really_ cute. His hair is messy and curly, his eyes big behind his glasses. And his smile… Raphael has only met a couple of people that could make you feel safe just by _smiling_ at you.

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. Now really isn’t the time to start crushing on a random guy, certainly not the caregiver of his younger brother. He’s sure that’s unethical somewhere in this world.

“So,” he says to distract himself. “Are you going home for Chanukah? I heard it starts on Christmas eve this year.”

Simon’s face falls at once. Raphael’s heart clenches painfully at the sight.

“No,” Simon says, not making eye contact. “No, I’m not.”

“Can I ask why?”

He shrugs, probably trying to look casual but failing miserably.

“You stayed away from home because you thought you weren’t wanted. I _know_ that I’m not.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” Simon mutters. When he looks back at Raphael, he almost looks… angry.

“I came out to them four years ago, right after I decided that my life was mine to live and nobody else’s. I brought home a boy, and my mother didn’t even let me introduce him before she pointed us to the door and told me that I shouldn’t return until I ‘bettered’ myself. I haven’t been home since.”

“Oh, wow,” Raphael says, not really sure what else to say or do. When he came out to his family, nobody really cared. His mother just told him that she loved him and that she couldn’t wait for him to finally bring someone home for her to meet. The fact that that someone would be a boy, didn’t faze her.

“That’s… that sucks. I’m sorry. does _my_ family know you’re gay?”

“Pan, actually,” Simon corrects. “And yeah, they do. I didn’t want to start the job if I couldn’t be myself. So, no offense to you, but if my sexuality is a problem to you in any way, I genuinely don’t care. I’m done being apologetic about something I can’t change.”

“No, no!” Raphael quickly says, holding up his hands in surrender, “not a problem at all. It would be very hypocritical of me to make a big deal out of you being pan when I’m gay.”

“Wait – you’re gay?” Simon asks, eyes big.

“I mean. I make a living by designing men’s fashion. What did you honestly expect?”

“Hey,” Simon teases, pointing a finger at him, “don’t stereotype.”

“It’s okay if I stereotype myself!”

That actually gets a genuine laugh out of him. Raphael immediately feels better, knowing he got Simon to laugh after having revealed something so heavy and personal.

“Okay, okay. Good point. Anyway, is it weird that I suddenly feel way more comfortable around you?”

“Oh, so I made you feel uncomfortable before?” Raphael jokes.

“No!” Simon says, punching Raphael on the arm. “What I mean is that… I don’t know, it’s like being abroad and finding someone that speaks the same language as you. It’s comforting.”

“I get it,” Raphael smiles. “I literally had no straight friends in high school. Being gay was bad enough, I didn’t need any straight friends to make me feel worse.”

“I only had one friend in high school,” Simon shrugs. Then he snickers. “She’s a lesbian, though. So I guess I even looked for the queer kids back then.”

And again, just like before, they slip into an easy conversation after that. Almost as if they’ve known each other for years. Simon tells him about his sister, who moved to Europe when she turned twenty one and is now living in Paris. She’s a closeted lesbian, so she understands Simon better than their mother ever could, but France isn’t exactly next door. And Raphael tells him about Magnus and Lily, his two best friends back in New York. Simon asks a lot of questions about them, genuinely seeming interested in Raphael’s life. It flatters him, in a way – having someone ask that many questions about him.

His brothers eventually get bored of ice skating and get off the rink too. Simon puts Diego back into his normal wheelchair, after which Diego gestures for everyone to follow them.

“Come on, Peter Pan and Homie of Sexual, let’s go home.”

Raphael smiles at the nickname. Diego had once overheard Magnus call Raphael that, and he started using it too. It’s the first time in three years that he addresses Raphael like that.

The car ride home still causes Raphael to panic. It’s dark and wet and slippery out, and memories of the accident flush his mind every time the car slips ever so slightly. But this time, Simon is asking him questions about his work, and Diego occasionally asks something about New York, and Julian and Daniel are playing a game together, and the last weight has been lifted off his shoulders.

So, though Raphael is still on the verge of a panic attack, he finds himself coping better with it than ever before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'll be diving into Saphael starting next chapter, so I hope you're all still around!
> 
> Also to all of you leaving nice comments: I love you all so much it's actually ridiculous


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in one day?? It's like Christmas has come early!!

The next few days are just a festive blur. They put up the tree, decorate the house, help their mother prepare for the big meal, clean every room, they even take Daniel to the local mall to see Santa. Diego and Julian both feel too good and old to come along, so it’s just Simon, him and his youngest brother.

If there’s one thing Raphael has found out about Simon in those few days, it’s that he gets comfortable around people _really_ fast. He’s already treating Raphael like a friend instead of a semi-stranger, joking around and casually nudging him with his elbow and spending his free time with him. When Raphael asks him about it, he just shrugs and explains that he doesn’t exactly have access to a lot of people his age.

“It’s not that I don’t love your brothers,” he explains as they wait in line for Daniel to meet Santa, “it’s just that there’s a ten year age gap between me and Diego. And that’s cool, because he’s my patient, but sometimes I also enjoy hanging out with people my age. And it isn’t really like I have a lot of friends here anyway.”

“Yeah, why out of all places, did you decide to come to New Mexico?” Raphael asks.

“I don’t know, man. Change of scenery? I never thought I’d land such a long term job, though. I’m happy I did, but I don’t have a lot of free time, which means I don’t really get to meet new people.”

“So you cling onto the first twenty five year old you meet?” Raphael grins. Simon glares at him.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d be such a snarky bastard when I first saw you.”

“What can I say,” Raphael shrugs, “home brings out the best in me.”

“Sure it does,” Simon chuckles. He continues to tell Raphael about his (lack of a) social life here, and how he wasn’t exactly the party-goer in New York either, but he went out way more than he does now. He mostly performed with his band, which spikes Raphael’s interest.

“A band?” He asks. “What do you play?”

“Oh, uh, like in the band itself I play the guitar and I sing. But I also play the piano and cello.”

“No way. I play the piano too.”

Simon smiles at him. Raphael feels oddly warm inside, but he pushes the feeling away.

“Yeah, I know. Diego told me you did. I asked him if he wanted me to teach him.”

“Is he any good?”

“Dunno. He wanted to wait for you to come back so you could teach him.”

That breaks Raphael’s heart just a little. He still curses himself for taking so long to come back, but he’s determined to make it all right. The first thing he’s going to do once they get back home, is teach Diego how to play the piano.

“Anyway,” Raphael quickly says to steer the conversation back into the direction of Simon’s band. “What’s your band called?”

Simon gets flustered at that, though Raphael isn’t really sure why.

“We actually can’t really settle on a name. We have a poll running on twitter, but our current band name is the Bodhi Rooks.”

“The what?”

“You know, Bodhi Rook? Rogue One? The new Star Wars movie?”

“Oh. Yeah, not a fan of Star Wars.”

Simon’s jaw drops. It would’ve been comical if Simon hadn’t looked so damn _offended_ by it.

“Okay, as soon as we both got the time, I’m sitting you down to watch _at least_ Rogue One and the Force Awakens. Trust me, there are some very attractive men in both of those movies for you to drool over.”

Raphael huffs defensively. “I do not only watch movies for attractive men.”

“I do,” Simon admits with a casual shrug, “nothing that gets me into the movie more than John Boyega’s beautiful jawline and Oscar Isaac’s lip bite.”

Raphael opens his mouth to reply, but is interrupted by the lady standing behind them in line.

“Excuse me,” she says, “could you please keep your…” She lets her voice drop to a whisper, “ _homosexual_ conversation to a minimum. There are children here.”

Simon turns around on his heels, eyes blazing.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he purrs, “are we bothering you by simply existing?”

“No, you’re _bothering_ me by talking about _homosexuality_ in front of the children.”

“Surely the children don’t really care about two men having a conversation about Star Wars,” Raphael calmly points out.

“You weren’t talking about Star Wars, though,” the woman says, getting slightly flustered. “You were discussing…” She makes a vague gesture towards Raphael, and Simon hums understandingly.

“Ah, yes. We were indeed talking about attractive men that could dick me down day of the week. When was the last time you got some good dick, miss?”

Raphael snorts and turns back around to hide his laughter as the woman makes a sound as if she’s choking on her own homophobia. She angrily sputters an incoherent reply because Simon _dared_ to _openly_ talk about such a vulgar topic as sex, but Simon just turns back around with a pleased smile on his face.

“Come on, Daniel,” he says as loudly and innocently as he can, “it’s your turn.”

They guide Daniel up to Santa Claus, who lifts the little boy onto his lap. Simon, as if he’s a proud parent, takes plenty of pictures of Daniel as he tells Santa exactly what he wants for Christmas.

After having gone over a list mostly consisting of Spiderman toys, dogs, two kittens and Captain America’s shield, he also adds: “And for my brother to stay home forever and ever and ever!”

“I see!” Santa says, “and who would that brother be?”

Daniel points at Raphael and motions for him to come over. Raphael curses under his breath because he _really_ doesn’t want to sit on Santa’s lap as a goddamn twenty five year old, but just as he was expecting, Santa slaps his knee in a gesture that tells Raphael he has to sit down.

He lets himself sink onto Santa’s knee, internally wishing he could just disappear.

“Okay, big guy,” Santa says, pointing a gloved finger at him, “you heard your brother. Are you going to give him that gift?”

“I mean,” Raphael starts. He really can’t promise Daniel such a thing, even if he really wanted to. There’s no way in hell that he could abandon his business back in New York. But for the sake of Christmas (and mostly to get off Santa’s lap), he just nods.

“There, it’s settled! Merry Christmas to the both of you! Ho, ho, ho!”

Raphael mutters a thank you before lifting Daniel into his arms. Simon is grinning like an idiot when he walks over to him.

“Not a lap sitter?” He asks as they start towards the exit.

“No, especially not when the lap I’m sitting on belongs to a white dude in his sixties. That’s just nasty.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Simon agrees. “But I did get some nice pictures to show Diego and Julian.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate you?”

Simon grins wolfishly.

“If you think this is bad, wait till you see what I got you for Christmas.”

 

Diego, Julian and Daniel all got invited to a birthday party later that day. Guadalupe doesn’t understand why children have to throw birthday parties in _December_ , out of all months, to which Simon replies that parents can’t really hold in their child till after the holidays. Guadalupe smacks him over the head for that, which just shows how much she considers Simon as part of her family.

His three brothers being away from home also means Simon has the afternoon off. Raphael half expects him to just burst into his room, strap him to a chair and make him watch the Star Wars movies back to back, but Simon disappears into one of the rooms of the house and leaves Raphael to his own devices.

It’s nice for a little while. Raphael calls Magnus, who sent the sweater on its way to Guadalupe’s address, catches up on some of his shows and practices the piano for a while. But the house feels big and empty with his brothers gone and his mother visiting her sister across town, so he finds his way to the room Simon is hiding in after a few hours.

Simon practically dives across the table to cover its contents with his own body when he hears Raphael enter.

“What in God’s name are you doing?” Raphael wants to know.

“I’m wrapping gifts!”

“You’ve been in here for two hours.”

Simon huffs. “I’m not that good at wrapping, alright?”

Raphael chuckles and steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“Want some help?” He offers.

Simon considers it for a moment.

“Hold on, let me hide your gift and then you can help.”

“Fine,” Raphael says, turning around to face the door. He can hear Simon moving around for a bit before he tells him he can turn back around.

“Okay, so what do we have here?” Raphael asks when he sits down across from Simon and inspects the table. “I’m assuming that perfume is for my mother.”

“It is. You think she’ll like it?”

“Honestly, if it even vaguely smells of flowers, she’ll love it. What else do you have?”

Simon shows him a Doctor Who themed boardgame, some action figures, a Percy Jackson book set, a DVD and some comics. Raphael briefly leaves the room to get his own presents for his brothers (including the Cursed Child book, a Cars game for on the PS and Iron Man’s mask) and then sits back down with Simon again, who puts on some music for them to listen to as they wrap.

“My first concert I ever went to was The 1975,” Simon recalls as _Chocolate_ plays.

“Yeah? How’d you like it?”

“Meh, the lead singer should really learn how to enunciate. I liked the vibe, though. I also got my first kiss there, so it was an overall nice experience. You ever been to concerts?”

“Believe it or, I actually have been to quite a few. I love going to concerts.”

“Really? Rock concerts, not the, like, classical ones?”

“A fashion designing gay man who enjoys classical music? Please, nobody is _that_ stereotypical. No, I like Fall Out Boy. Imagine Dragons, Bastille. Those guys.”

“Mhh, I like those bands too. Maybe we could go to a concert together some time.”

Raphael smiles up at him. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Cool,” Simon grins.

They finish wrapping the gifts as they listen to some music and talk some more. Raphael enjoys talking about college the most, how exciting it had been to start his own business with the help of his best friend, Magnus. Simon is all ears, seemingly very impressed.

They end up talking for _hours_ , just sitting there after having finished wrapping. They occasionally switch up the music and fall back onto their mutual love for alternative rock, but they mostly talk about anything and everything. It feels… refreshing to talks so freely to Simon. The only other person in his life he can be this open to is Magnus.

By the end of the night, when his brothers are back home and looking for them, Simon knows about Raphael’s depression, anxiety and PTSD, simply by asking the right questions. He knows what triggers his panic attacks, he knows what calms Raphael down, he even knows about the nightmares that still haunt him. Raphael has never opened up to someone so quickly, has never let someone in so easily. But somehow, he doesn’t think Simon will abuse this knowledge about him. Somehow, he truly believes that Simon, in whatever way, and however deeply, truly _cares_ about his wellbeing.

And Raphael feels safe with him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this is rather short and maybe even feels rushed, but I had to write this in the middle of the night because I don't have time to write on Christmas eve.
> 
> I hope you still enjoy!

Raphael actually likes Christmas eve more than he likes Christmas itself. There’s just something more… cozy about it. Eating a nice meal in the glowing warmth of the burning fireplace, watching classic Christmas movies, making games out of guessing what’s under the tree. He’s been looking forward to it since his family welcomed him back.

Christmas eve starts when the sun starts to set. Guadalupe urges her boys to put on their Christmas sweaters and get to the Christmas tree to get a nice picture, to which Raphael hands Simon his gift.

“It’s way too early for gifts,” Simon sputters, but Raphael insists that he open it.

He has seen Simon smile a lot over the course of the past week and a half. He has seen him grin, and beam, and laugh and snicker. But he hasn’t seen him offering him a watery smile as he blinks back tears.

“Raphael, you really shouldn’t have,” Simon says softly, holding up the sweater. On it, there’s a menorah, the candles having been replaced by lightsabers.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I had to.”

Simon wipes at his eyes and giggles lightly, embracing Raphael swiftly before pulling his own sweater over his head to replace it with the new one. Raphael’s eyes only drift to Simon’s exposed stomach for a second.

 Simon shoots a few pictures of the Santiagos in front of the Christmas tree before Raphael takes the camera from him, places it on the coffee table on top of a pile of books and puts it on automatic. He pulls Simon into the frame and tells him he’s just as much part of the family as the others, so he deserves to be on the Christmas card. Simon tears up again, but quickly wipes the tears away and puts on his best smile for the camera.

Guadalupe’s feast is planned for tomorrow night, so their dinner is quite modest. Daniel runs to the TV afterwards to put on Home Alone and Diego and Julian engage in a game of cards while Raphael helps his mother with the dishes. Simon sneaks back upstairs, thinking nobody notices that he’s gone.

“Is he coming back downstairs?” Raphael asks as he hands his mother the dishes to put in the dishwasher.

“Not tonight. He always stays in his room on Christmas eve.”

“Why?”

Guadalupe shrugs. “I’m not really sure; he never told me. I figured it’s because he doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so it’s just like any ordinary night to him.”

Raphael hums, but somehow the thought of Simon alone in his room on a night like this doesn’t sit right with him. He isn’t fully present throughout the night, his mind drifting back to Simon whenever it can.

“It’s because he’s sad,” Diego explains halfway through a game of Uno.

Raphael looks up from his cards, mind snapping back to the table they’re sitting around.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Simon. You’re thinking about him, right? He’s upstairs because Chanukah starts today and he’s sad about it.”

“Oh,” Raphael says. “Right, I forgot about that.”

Diego jerks his head to the hallway. “I think you should go see if he’s okay. I’d do it myself, but…” He points to his wheelchair and then back to the stairs, shrugging carelessly.

“Okay, yeah,” he nods, “I’ll be right back.”

He quickly climbs the stairs and makes his way to Simon’s room, knocking on his door when he reaches it. There’s a weak ‘come in’ and Raphael steps inside, finding Simon curled up in bed.

“Something wrong with Diego?” He asks.

“No, he’s fine. I was just wondering if you were.”

Simon looks up, hair a mess and glasses askew on his face. “I’m okay,” he assures Raphael, but his voice is small and vulnerable.

“You sure? You don’t look that okay to me.”

Simon exhales shakily and buries himself underneath his sheets. “I’m just – I… I don’t know. No. I’m not okay,” he mutters, voice muffled by his blankets.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Simon peeks over the edge of his mattress and gestures for Raphael to come closer. He throws back his sheets and pats the place next to him, signaling for Raphael to get in.

“Oh, in bed? O-okay,” Raphael stammers as he kicks off his shoes and gets in. Simon sighs and turns to him, still surrounded by a heap of blankets and sheets.

“Chanukah started today,” he says.

“I know,” Raphael nods.

“And I’m alone, in my room. Again.”

“I’m sorry,” Raphael murmurs, not sure what else there is to say. Having a family that doesn’t accept you for who you are _sucks_ , especially during the holidays. He wishes he could do something about it, but he can’t really show up at Simon’s house and tell his mother to suck it up and just accept the fact that her son might be taking someone home that isn’t a girl.

“Yeah,” Simon breathes. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a buzzkill.”

“You’re not! Honestly, I just don’t like seeing you this upset. Do you have a menorah with you?”

“In my suitcase. Haven’t unpacked it since I moved here.”

“Why don’t you light the first candle? That’s what you do on Chanukah, right?”

“I guess. But it’s just… it’s not the same alone.”

“You’re not alone.”

Simon looks up to him, eyes big. He looks really young like that. “You mean you’re staying here?”

“I mean, if you want me to.”

“But… Christmas eve?”

Raphael makes a dismissive hand gesture. “It’s just Christmas eve. We celebrate Christmas tomorrow. But tonight – ” Raphael shrugs “ – we can just hang out if you want.”

“Yeah,” Simon says, a small smile creeping up his face, “yeah, that would be nice.”

He gets out of bed to find his menorah and places it on his window still, lighting the first candle. Raphael has never seen anyone light a menorah before, so he’s intrigued by it. He watches intently as Simon places the candle where it’s supposed to go and then listens to him sing a song he doesn’t understand but gives him goosebumps anyway. When Simon turns back around to Raphael, he already seems a bit happier.

“That felt nice,” he admits.

“Cool,” Raphael grins. “Okay, so, what next?”

“I don’t know. Usually we just hang out and eat typical Chanukah dishes.”

“Okay, so we don’t have Chanukah dishes. But we do have a TV with internet connection and fast wi-fi.”

Simon squints at him. “What are you thinking, Santiago?”

“I’m thinking it’s time for you to introduce me to Star Wars.”

Simon sets off one of his excited rambles as he browses the internet in search of a download link to watch A New Hope. He tells Raphael that there’s a certain order you’re supposed to watch the movies in, but he mentions all these numbers and titles of movies that make Raphael’s head spin. So he just kind of zones out while Simon talks and talks and talks, just happy that he got him out of his sad heap of blankets.

Finally, when the movie has downloaded and the opening credits start to roll, Simon settles back into his pillow. He briefly pauses the movie to point out that the rebels they’re talking about in this are actually the rebels in Rogue One but that they _have_ to go see that one in the movie theatre, and then hushes Raphael despite him not even talking and presses play.

Honestly, Raphael finds it quite boring. His eyes start drooping halfway through the movie, and by the end of it, he has curled up in Simon’s bed and is half asleep. He tries to just _listen_ to the movie for a while, but he can feel exhaustion tug at his mind.

So he gives in to it and allows it to pull him under. And if he cuddles up closer to Simon as he tries to find a good position to sleep in, then that’s his business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very merry Christmas to everyone who celebrates, and a very happy Chanukah if you celebrate that! If you don't celebrate either, I just hope you're having a good day.
> 
> I won't be updating tomorrow because I have a Christmas party and I didn't prepare a chapter beforehand to post, but I will be back somewhere after Christmas!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly just??? A chapter of softness??

The first Christmas day Raphael spends with his family after three years is one to never forget.

It starts early the next morning, when Daniel bursts into Raphael’s room to wake him up for presents. Then, when he can’t find him in his own room, he moves on to Simon’s room instead. Raphael and Simon fell asleep together and are a bit too closely cuddled up to not be awkward when Daniel wakes them, but thank god Simon is really smooth about it and just tells Raphael he’s a great little spoon. Raphael’s blush is embarrassing and hot, but he tries to hide it by quickly jumping out of bed and following Daniel downstairs.

His two other brothers are already up. They’re both impatiently sitting around the tree, waiting for Daniel, Raphael and Simon to join them.

“Finally!” Diego says when they finally sit down. “What took you so long?”

“I couldn’t find Raphael,” Daniel explains. “He was sleeping in Simon’s bed.”

Diego raises his eyebrows so high they almost disappear into his hairline. “Simon’s bed, huh?”

“Nothing like that,” Raphael stutters quickly, blush back on his cheeks. “We watched a movie and I fell asleep in the middle of it.”

“Can you believe he fell asleep in the middle of A New Hope?” Simon complains. “ _A New Hope!_ Only the literal start of the Star Wars franchise!”

“I thought Rogue One was the start?”

Simon and Julian both jerk their head towards him, looking extremely offended and also slightly murderous, and that on a holy day like this.

“A lost soul,” Julian says, solemnly shaking his head.

“Such a shame,” Simon agrees, bowing his head as if he’s grieving.

Raphael glares at the both of them and then looks at the presents under the tree.

“Anyway,” he says, “why don’t we open some presents instead of making fun of my lack of Star Wars knowledge?”

“We can’t,” Julian says. “Mom’s not back yet.”

“Wait, where has she gone?”

Julian shrugs. “I don’t know. She left like an hour ago and told us to wait until she got back to open the presents.”

“Oh, alright. Well, in the meantime, who wants pancakes?”

 

As it turns out, neither Raphael nor Simon is very good at making pancakes.

Simon breaks more eggs by accident than on purpose, and he also gets some of the shell into the mixing bowl. He shrugs it off and says it’ll add some crunch to it, but Raphael doesn’t really see the appeal. The flour goes _everywhere_ when Raphael tries to open it, covering them _and_ the entire kitchen in it. To make it even worse, the carton of milk slips out of Simon’s hand when he takes it out of the fridge and spills all over the floor.

“Oh my god,” Raphael breathes when he looks at the mess they made. Simon is standing in the middle of the battlefield, looking sheepish and really cute with the flour in his hair and on his glasses.

“Guadalupe is gonna be so mad when she sees this,” he says.

“She is. We have to clean this up before she comes back.”

“What about the pancakes?” Julian wonders. He’d been sitting at the kitchen table observing the rampage without offering to help even once.

“Just have some cereal.”

“But Simon dropped all the milk.”

“Then have some dry cereal, amigo. I’ll take us all out for lunch after presents and church, okay?”

Julian shrugs and gets up, skillfully avoiding the eggs, milk and flour on the floor as he makes his way back to the living room. “Alright. Have fun cleaning.”

Raphael sighs as he watches Julian go. Simon makes an attempt to walk towards the broom closet to get a mop, but slips on the wet floor as he passes Raphael. Raphael’s arm shoots out and curls around Simon’s waist, more out of reflex than anything else, but suddenly he finds himself standing almost chest to chest with the other man.

“Sorry,” Simon apologizes, cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink, “bad balance.”

“Uh,” Raphael stumbles. He’s fully aware that his arm is still around Simon’s waist and that they’re still standing chest to chest and that they’re still staring into each other’s eyes, but he can’t make himself take a step back.

“We should – uh, really get cleaning if we don’t want your mom chasing us with a frying pan,” Simon points out, blush still high on his cheeks and creeping down his neck into his shirt.

“Ri-right,” Raphael nods, removing his arm from Simon’s waist and taking a step backwards. He promptly turns around in a last attempt to hide his awful blush and rushes towards the broom closet to get the supplies they need to clean up the mess they made.

Once in the closet, he takes a moment to reflect on the situation that just took place.

Simon and he _totally_ had a sappy rom-com moment in there. He’s sure he’s seen a million variations of the clumsy person falling into the other’s arms, only in those scenarios it always concerned a heterosexual couple. Raphael never thought those moments could happen between two men too. That he could have a movie moment where he’d look at another man and find him _cute_ , where he’d feel the urge to move his hand and brush some flour off his glasses. He thought soft moments like those, where the world slows down and becomes unfocused except for that one person, only belonged to straight people.

And yet here he is, in the closet (which is ironic, to say the least), trying to calm his heartbeat because he’d just experienced one of the most gentle moments in his life, in his mother’s kitchen, with another man.

 

Despite Raphael’s minor crisis in the broom closet, they finish cleaning the kitchen before his mother returns. And when she finally does, she barely steps inside long enough to call out to her sons before disappearing again.

Everyone gathers at the front door and Raphael guides them all outside, where their mother is standing innocently on the driveway, hands behind her back.

“I got a surprise for you,” she says with a big smile. She takes a step sideways, revealing a small golden retriever puppy patiently sitting on the ground.

“A puppy?!” Daniel shrieks, speeding towards his mother to go pet the dog.

“It is indeed! Her name is Liza and she was brought in yesterday at the animal shelter. I just _had_ to bring her home.”

“Wait, you actually got us a puppy?” Julian asks, eyes big.

“Yes, but you’re all gonna be taking care of her! Walking her and playing with her and feeding her.”

“Promise!” Daniel swears, giving the puppy kisses on its head. Liza whacks her tail and licks his face, jumping around to get pats everywhere.

Diego rolls himself towards his younger brother and the puppy. When Liza spots him, she braces herself and then jumps onto his lap, giving him a nice-to-meet-you-lick too.

“Best Christmas ever!” Daniel screams. He gives his mother a hug and then focuses his attention back on Liza, who’s still sitting on Diego’s lap.

Raphael watches them from afar, a small smile on his face. It’s always nice to see his brothers this happy, especially when there are animals involved.

“You have a dog too, right?” Simon asks. Raphael hadn’t even noticed he was standing next to him.

“Yeah,” Raphael nods, “his name is Apollo. Magnus is taking care of him back in New York.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog, but my sister was allergic. And by the time she moved out, I was _kicked_ out. So, no dog for me.”

Raphael nudges him and jerks his head towards the golden retriever puppy and his brothers.

“You don’t really think those three are going to pick up her poo and clean up her pee when she has an accident in the house, right? That dog is as much yours as it is theirs.”

“Great. I finally get a dog and my only job is to clean up its shit,” Simon sighs, but he does it with a smile.

 

They open presents afterwards. Simon, despite his previous threats, didn’t get Raphael anything provocative or embarrassing. He just got him a nice photo frame with a family picture in it (somehow, the fact that Simon chose a picture he’s in too does something to Raphael’s stomach) and a polaroid camera.

“I don’t really know why I got you that,” Simon explains shyly when Raphael unwraps it. “I don’t even know if you like taking pictures. I like pictures because they can capture a moment, you know? And you can look at them and remember when you took them. there’s also just something more _real_ about polaroid cameras. You get what you get. You can’t edit or delete them. I don’t know. I can return it if you don’t like it.”

“No,” Raphael shakes his head. “I love it. it’s a brilliant gift.”

He lifts the camera to his face and snaps a quick picture of Simon, who’s completely caught off guard.

“I probably look absolutely ridiculous in that picture,” he complains.

“Well, no editing or deleting. Your words.”

It honestly doesn’t surprise Raphael to see that Simon looks cute as always once the picture develops, caught mid-smile and his eyes big and bright behind his glasses. He takes a few more pictures of his family to cover up the fact that he just wanted to have a picture of Simon and puts them all in his wallet, but Simon’s picture is the only one he pulls out again when mass is threatening to lure him back to sleep.

 

The rest of the day is pretty laid back. They drive back home to pick up Simon and Liza after mass and Raphael buys them all lunch, and then they just hang out at home. His brothers watch Christmas movies while Simon enjoys himself with Liza and Raphael checks in with Magnus and goes through his emails to make sure his company hasn’t gone bankrupt yet. His mom spends most of the day in the kitchen, preparing the feast for that night.

Raphael goes back up to Simon’s room after dinner. Diego makes kissing noises and inappropriate gestures, but quickly gets shut down by Guadalupe telling him off. That doesn’t mean Raphael is blushing any less, though.

They do the same thing as they did last night. Firstly, Raphael watches Simon light the second candle on his menorah. Then he listens to him sing a foreign but beautiful song, and then they get comfortable in his bed to watch a movie. This time, however, Raphael gets to pick which one they’re watching.

“Really?” Simon questions when Raphael picks a horror movie to watch. “On a holy day as this?”

“You don’t celebrate Christmas.”

“No, but I celebrate being alive! And I would like to keep it that way by avoiding watching any kind of movie that could give me a heart attack.”

Raphael gives him a pitying look. “You can hold my hand if you get scared.”

Simon glares at him. “I’m keeping you to that,” he threatens.

Raphael snickers and presses play.

 

Okay, so _maybe_ Raphael purposely chose a scary movie to watch in the hope that Simon wouldn’t be a fan of horror movies and grab his hand. And maybe he purposely chose a movie with lots of jump scares so Simon would crawl up to him and press his face into his shoulder when things got too tense. He honestly doesn’t know where these sudden feelings for Simon are coming from, but he might as well act on them while he’s at it.

It appears that the universe is on his side on this blessed day, as Simon turns out to be _really_ bad with horror movies. As soon as it’s night on the screen, he gets closer to Raphael and covers his eyes with his hand, desperately searching for Raphael’s hand with his other one. They end up holding hands throughout almost the entire movie, and when it finishes, Simon’s voice is small and soft when he asks: “Raphael? Could you… stay? Like last night? That movie really messed with my head.”

It’s honestly embarrassing how fast Raphael agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone still reading this! I hope you're all doing well and enjoyed Christmas/are enjoying Chanukah/are enjoying life in general. If not, I hope this chapter could at least bring a smile to your face, even if it was just for a little while. 
> 
> Also, you might have noticed that this fic now shows that it'll have 10 chapters in total. Yup, only two more chapters after this! (or more, but I'm pretty sure only two).


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raphael is such a flustered nerd in this I can't believe him

As proven by the pancakes, Raphael really isn’t the best cook in the world. Honestly, he mostly orders takeout back in New York or lets Magnus cook for him. He just doesn’t _get_ it. He doesn’t understand the appeal of slaving away in the kitchen, only to eat your meal within fifteen minutes while you spent maybe hours making it.

But still, despite his terrible cooking skills, he finds himself in the kitchen in the middle of the night with a Jewish cooking site opened on his tablet, trying to make a traditional Jewish dish named Sufganiot, which are basically just deep-fried jelly donuts.

Raphael loves sleep. He really does. Sleep is great when he doesn’t have any nightmares, and they have seemed to have lessened in the weeks he has spent with his family. So he’s really questioning his own motives to be awake at this ungodly hour – is a cute boy really worth all this?

The thing is, it’s not just because Simon is a cute guy. It’s also because he has helped his family more than he could even imagine, and because he’s the sweetest guy on the face on this planet, and because he deserves to celebrate his holy holiday with his family but he isn’t and it _isn’t fair._ Out of all people that deserve a full, fair, long life, Simon deserves it the most. And yet he was shunned by the people that were supposed to love him for something as ridiculous as his sexuality and was forced to not celebrate Chanukah because it made him feel even worse about the whole situation.

So the absolute least Raphael can do for him is make him some traditional dishes served during Chanukah.

He’s trying his damn hardest to not make any noise as he struggles to make the jelly donuts – which is _not_ easy, to say the least – but Diego sleeps downstairs and has always been a light sleeper, so it doesn’t really come as a surprise to Raphael when he rolls himself into the kitchen to see what’s up.

“What are you doing, big bro?” He wonders, peeking over the countertop to see what’s happening.

“I’m cooking,” Raphael says, though that’s pretty obvious.

“Why in the middle of the night, though?”

Raphael sighs, wiping his hands on his mother’s apron as he turns to face Diego.

“I want to surprise Simon,” he explains as he leans against the countertop.

Diego raises his eyebrows and smirks suggestively.

“Oh, Simon,” he hums, “seems like you’re doing a lot for him lately.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Raphael mutters. He’s not doing _that_ much for Simon. He’s just being nice!

“Mhh. Let’s see. You ordered him a Chanukah sweater, bought him all the Star Wars movies with extras and bloopers, and you’re staying up to bake him weird donuts. _And_ you have a picture of him in your wallet.”

“You stole my wallet again?”

Diego shrugs and throws the old thing on the kitchen table. “You’re just so easy,” he says. “Simon knows all my tricks by now.”

“Well, stop doing that. It’s not nice.”

“Don’t try to change the subject! We were talking about Simon.”

Raphael rolls his eyes and starts kneading the dough.

“Fine,” he admits. “I’ve been doing a lot for Simon. But only because he deserves it.”

“Ah. Not because you have a big, fat, massive crush on him?”

Raphael huffs. “Please. What am I, twelve?”

“Are you saying you don’t get crushes anymore when you’re twenty five?”

“That’s right,” Raphael nods, rolling the dough into a ball before kneading it again. “I’m too old to have crushes.”

“Too bad,” Diego sighs dramatically, “you’d be cute together.”

Raphael glares at him over his shoulder. “Stop trying to set me up.”

“I’m just saying! He’s funny and awkward, you’re rich and also awkward when it comes to attractive men.”

“I’m _not_.”

“Oh, so we’re just going to ignore Leonardo-from-the-coffee-shop? You know, that one dude you’d always buy your coffee at and where you once spilled your hot caramel macchiato all over yourself because he smiled at you? That Leonardo?”

“That was an accident,” Raphael grumbles defensively. “You can’t prove anything.”

“Okay, fine, let’s say that it is. But _still_. Just, I don’t know. Go out with him. Or whatever old people do nowadays.”

“Hey,” Raphael says, abandoning his jelly donuts once more to jab a finger into Diego’s direction. “Firstly, I’m not old. I’m in the prime of my life. Secondly, why do you want me to date him so badly?”

Diego’s smug little grin falls immediately. He looks away from Raphael and chews his lip as he tries to bore holes into the curtains purely by staring at them.

“Diego?” Raphael asks softly.

Diego exhales shakily. “It’s just – I want – I don’t want you to leave again, Raphael. And I thought if I could set you up with Simon, you’d – you’d have a reason to come back.”

The dough on the countertop is quickly forgotten. Raphael walks over to his little brother and takes place at the kitchen table, observing him.

“Do you seriously think I’d only come back home for a cute guy I’ve just met?”

“So you do think he’s cute,” Diego says weakly. All the smugness has disappeared off his face.

“Diego,” Raphael says again, firmer this time. “I know I’ve done horrible things in the past. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have _assumed_. I should’ve stayed. And it took me so long to come back, but now that I am, not a force of nature could make me leave like that again. Yeah, I have a job in New York I have to get back to. But I swear that I won’t abandon you again. I’ll come to visit as much as I can and I’ll try to stay as long as I can. And I won’t do it for Simon. I’ll do it for you, and Daniel, and Julian and mom.”

A small smile breaks through Diego’s vulnerable expression. “And a little bit for Simon?”

Raphael smiles. “And a little bit for Simon,” he admits.

*

Raphael can’t wait to show Simon what he’d made the next day. Diego had helped him finish up until they both got too exhausted to continue, and the end result doesn’t look too bad. He just hopes he doesn’t poison Simon or anything.

Simon is so surprised by the Sufganiot when Raphael serves them to him for breakfast that he almost chokes on a gasp. Then he looks from Raphael to the plate in front of him and back, so quickly it’s almost comical, and shoots out of his chair to hug him.

Diego throws him a knowing look over the table as he hugs Simon back, but Raphael just glares at him.

“You’re – you’re honestly amazing, Raphael,” Simon stutters as he sits back down and stares at the plate in awe. “When did you make this?”

“Last night,” Diego answers for him.

“Like – _in the middle of the night_?”

“It was nothing,” Raphael shrugs sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sufganiot is _a lot_ of work,” Simon counters, shaking his head slightly as if he can’t believe it.

“Well, I don’t even know if they taste nice,” Raphael says.

“Let’s find out!” Simon grins. He offers a jelly donut to everyone at the table and pulls Raphael down onto the chair next to him, clinking their donuts together as if giving a toast.

Raphael isn’t sure how traditional Chanukah jelly donuts are supposed to taste, but the ones he made don’t taste bad at all. In fact, they’re quite delicious.

Simon must think so too, judging by the inappropriate noises he’s making that make Raphael’s ears turn hot and how he nudges him with his shoulder as he eats.

“These are good,” he says with his mouth full. Guadalupe scolds him for that and he quickly swallows before continuing: “Like, really good. Almost like my mom used to make them. This is like, the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“ _Really_?” Diego asks with feigned shock. He wiggles his eyebrows at Raphael, who kicks him under the table.

 _Paralyzed_ , Diego mouths at him, a triumphant grin on his face.

“Yeah,” Simon manages to say around another bite of jelly donut. Guadalupe tells him off in rapid Spanish and Simon’s ears turn pink.

“You should know how long it took him to make them! I heard him around two, and I stayed to help. By the time we were finished, the sun was already rising.”

“Diego…” Raphael warns. Diego calls upon his most innocent angel face and flutters his eyelashes at Raphael, almost challenging him.

“You really shouldn’t have, Raph,” Simon insists. “Why’d you do it anyway?”

Raphael’s face turns as hot as the tips of his ears. He ducks his head and avoids eye contact as he stutters: “I – I, uh. I just wanted you to, I don’t know. Feel at home. It didn’t seem fair to me to only celebrate _our_ traditions when you’re Jewish. I wanted to do something to celebrate your religion too.”

Simon is quiet for a second and Raphael thinks he might’ve said something to embarrass him or maybe even offended him, but then he feels Simon’s lips press a quick kiss to his cheek. They’re gone as quickly as they came, but his cheek is impossibly hot where he kissed him.

“First I thought you were a stuck up rich dude, then I thought you were a snarky bastard, and now you turn out to literally be the most thoughtful person on earth. You’re full of surprises, Raphael Santiago.”

“He also knows some really cool magic tricks,” Diego adds. Raphael almost kicks him again, but he wouldn’t feel it anyway.

“Really? You gotta show me some later!” Simon says.

Raphael wants to dismiss the request, but Simon’s smile is so hopeful and warm that he finds himself nodding instead.

The rest of the meal runs its normal course. His brothers bicker about silly stuff, his mother sips her coffee and enjoys the loud, full table, and Simon strikes up a conversation with Raphael.

Though Raphael tries to be a decent human being by replying to Simon’s comments, his mind seems to short circuit. His cheek is still hot where Simon’s lips had touched his skin and his own lips tingle just from _thinking_ about maybe ever kissing Simon properly in the near future. He silently curses himself for being this enamored this quickly, which is normally nothing like him, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t stop thinking about how soft and warm Simon’s lips had felt.

The fact that Diego is still smirking at him isn’t helping either. Maybe he can pry some information about a possible crush of his from Julian or Daniel to hold against him, but for now he’ll just settle with death glares whenever he sees a chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still reading this story and haven't given up on me, know that I love you


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Panic attack, self loathing (nothing too explicit but still there), self harm, blood, sexual content

On New Year’s Eve, everything goes wrong.

It doesn’t start out that way. They were all supposed to sit around and watch the summary of the past year on TV and Daniel would struggle to stay up till midnight but fall asleep anyway and they’d all watch the fireworks together and maybe Raphael would be brave enough to actually give Simon a New Year’s kiss. It was supposed to be just them, laid back, enjoying each other’s company.

Nobody was supposed to come over. It was supposed to just be them. It was supposed to be safe and away from his trauma.

When the doorbell rings, he figures maybe someone ordered some food. He doesn’t think much of it as his mother gets up to open the door.

“Maria,” she says, voice high with surprise.

It’s like someone has thrown a bucket of ice cold water down the back of Raphael’s shirt. The room starts spinning as soon as he hears that name and links it to another name that turns the blood in his veins to ice. _Oscar._ Maria’s son.

He’s barely aware of himself as he stands and makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing the table and walls for support whenever he can. The world is spinning around him, focusing and blurring so fast it makes him nauseous. His legs tremble so badly it’s a miracle he can even make it to the kitchen without collapsing.

Someone calls his name, but it’s too far and too muffled by the blood rushing in his ears. He climbs the stairs in the kitchen to the second floor, grabbing at the railing in order not to fall. His legs keep carrying him, despite shaking so hard it shouldn’t be possible to still be able to walk. But all Raphael can think about is _running, escaping, hiding_. He needs to get away from his aunt. He cannot face her. He can’t look her in the eye without remembering Oscar’s broken body and twisted face, stuck in a silent scream for eternity.

 _My fault, my fault, my fault_. His own voice bangs through his head like an evil echo. Every step becomes heavier, as if all the guilt and sorrow and pain have come back and settled on his shoulders again.

He finally makes it to his room. He locks the door behind him, fingers trembling, and stumbles to the bathroom to hold his wrists under cold water.

The cold water does little to calm him down. Raphael desperately tries to remember what he usually does to stop a panic attack, but the harder he thinks, the more his memory slips away from him.

He lets out a frustrated cry, smashing the mirror with his fist. He can’t look at himself, at that disgusting face, those murderous eyes, any longer.

He gets back into his room, finally collapsing next to his bed. He lets his back rest against the mattress, pulls up his knees to his chest and tries to sit it out like he always does – alone, scared and full of self-hatred.

A minute or two go by while the only sound in Raphael’s room is his own uneven breathing and the steady dripping of blood on the floor. The panic is still high in his chest, like a scared bird desperate to get out, and his mouth tastes like copper.

 _Calm down¸_ he tells himself. _Breathe. Just breathe._ But it’s hard to breathe when the other part of your brain is reminding you that this is all your fault, that you should be dead, that it should’ve been you on that road, not Oscar. Not Diego. You. Just you.

Raphael grips at his hair, almost as if he’s trying to rip out the voices in his head. He wants to yell at them to leave him alone, but the only thing that comes out of his mouth is a strangled sob.

Then someone calls his name again, closer this time.

Raphael looks up, vision blurry. Simon is standing before him, a towel in his hands.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Let’s get that cleaned up.”

Raphael looks at where Simon is pointing to and realizes his knuckles are completely split open, blood gushing out of them. He doesn’t even feel any of it.

“Okay,” he whispers. He doesn’t really care about the blood, but he’ll take anything to get his mind off the panic he feels like he’s choking on.

Simon crouches slowly and takes Raphael’s hand in his. He cleans Raphael’s fist and then examines the wound, gently turning his hand to inspect it.

“Doesn’t look like it needs stitches,” he declares.

“Thanks,” Raphael breathes. He doesn’t look at Simon as he takes back his hand.

“Is there anything I can do?” Simon asks. Raphael can feel his eyes on his face, but he can’t bring himself to look at him. He does appreciate the fact that he doesn’t try to pamper him, though. He doesn’t ask if he’s okay or questions what’s happening or even tells him that everything is going to be okay. He just asks if he can help. It reminds him of how Magnus would get him out of his panic attacks.

“Just… talk,” Raphael manages to say. He remembers Magnus talking about the most silly stuff just to distract Raphael, and it always worked.

“Oh, okay.” Simon offers him a smile, soft and warm and encouraging as always. “I’m good at that.”

And he really is. He talks and talks and talks and talks. Mostly about his childhood, how he’d get in trouble almost every day – he calls himself a _“troubled child”_ with excessive air-quotation marks – about family camping trips and about his best friend Clary. Raphael gets up the courage to take Simon’s hand with the one that isn’t bloody and bruised, and Simon holds it tightly throughout his entire rant.

By the end of it, when it appears that he has run out of childhood stories to share, he says: “Let’s get out of here.”

Raphael’s panic, that had been slumbering, flares up again. “Simon, I _can’t_ – ” He starts, voice bordering desperation.

“I know, I know,” Simon says quickly. “I didn’t mean just your room. I meant in general. Out of the house. Let’s just… go out.”

“Go out?”

“Yeah! I don’t know, we could go to the movies and dinner afterwards. And then just buy some alcohol and get drunk while we wait for midnight.”

Raphael offers him a weak smile. “I like that idea.”

“Great! Let me get changed real quick. Do you want some help cleaning and bandaging that wound or will you be alright?”

Raphael looks down at his split knuckles. He appreciates Simon not just forcing his help onto him but giving him the choice to accept his help.

“I’ll be fine,” he decides.

Simon nods and stands after squeezing Raphael’s hand.

“Meet me outside in ten, alright? I’ll go tell your family we’re heading out.”

Raphael stands too, legs still wobbly but no longer trembling.

“Thanks, Simon,” he croaks. His voice is still laced with something wrong, something close to terror, but his head is clearing and he no longer hears any voices shouting at him.

Simon smiles again, that same beautiful, wonderful, amazingly encouraging smile.

“Anytime,” he says, and Raphael knows he means it.

 

Raphael bandages up his wound – it’s sad to say he’s become quite good at that, but it’s the truth – and changes into one of his nice-but-not-too-formal-suits. It’s been a while since he’s worn one of them, but he always feels safer when he can feel the familiar fabric on his skin.

Simon is waiting outside, just like he’d promised. Raphael went through a second minor panic attack as he made his way downstairs, scared he’d run into his aunt Maria, but he could get away without anyone noticing.

Simon is wearing a suit too. It’s not as high quality as Raphael’s, but it’s still a nice look on him.

“Nice suit,” Raphael remarks as he gets into the passenger seat.

Simon grins at him. “Of course not as nice as yours, but it’ll do.”

“No I like it on you.” Then, to distract him from the road: “Where are you taking me anyway?”

“Well, I told you we should definitely go see Rogue One in the movie theatre. So, we’re seeing Rogue One in the movie theatre.”

Raphael raises an eyebrow.

“You’re taking me to a Star Wars movie on New Year’s Eve?”

“You’ll come out of there a changed man, Santiago. I swear.”

“Fine,” Raphael sighs exasperatedly. He doesn’t add that sitting next to Simon for at least two hours and then watching his eyes light up as he sets off a rant about something way out of Raphael’s field of interest doesn’t even sound half bad to him.

Some things are better kept to yourself.

 

As expected, Simon is buzzing when the movie ends. He’s so excited about it that he walks past three possible restaurants to eat at, and Raphael eventually has to drag him inside the first restaurant they come across. Otherwise, they would’ve been roaming the streets until they both starved.

The restaurant is packed, but Simon knows the waitress that works here and manages to get them a booth all the way in the corner. They have a short conversation about Rogue One before she disappears into the kitchen again to get some orders.

“Who’s that?” Raphael wonders.

“Oh, that’s Maia,” Simon shrugs. “She’s like, the only person I know here. She’s pretty cool. Sometimes she gives me free drinks.”

“Free drinks, huh?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that!” Simon is quick to say. “Just friendly, purely platonic free drinks.”

“Mhh, you sure? She’s cute.” Raphael honestly doesn’t know what he’s doing. Why is he trying to see if Simon might have feelings for this random waitress? His self-destructive tendencies are really getting the better of him.

“I mean – she is,” Simon agrees. “But she’s – ah, currently not really my type.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I’m currently, like, more into guys? Or _a_ guy, if you will.”

“Really? Which guy?”

“Uh…” Simon’s face turns bright red. He looks down at the table and starts playing with the table cloth, but before he can stutter a reply, Maia is back at their table with drinks.

“Ready to order?” She asks.

“Yes!” Simon yelps, ducking behind his menu to pick a dish. He settles on the vegetarian lasagna, and Raphael chooses some pasta.

Simon is quick to change the topic when Maia has walked off again. He asks Raphael about the most ridiculous stuff, like his favorite childhood memory or what his dream job would be if he’d have every opportunity in the world. When Raphael replies he’s already fulfilling his dream job, Simon kicks him under the table.

“That’s such a cliché thing to say. ‘I’m already doing what I love!’ Pff. I mean, what would you do if money had nothing to do with it? If you could be whatever the hell you wanted to be?”

“Okay, fine,” Raphael says, rubbing his shin where Simon had kicked him. “I’d want to be a writer.”

“A writer? That’s so cool! What would you write about?”

“I don’t know,” Raphael shrugs sheepishly. He runs his finger over the edge of his glass and chews his lip. “I guess – just. Boys. Boys loving boys. Stories about boys and angels and gods and magic and destroying a corrupt system and roadtrips and everything in between.”

Simon smiles warmly. “That sounds amazing,” he says. “I’d love to read one of your stories sometime.”

“I haven’t actually written anything yet,” Raphael confesses. “I want to, but I don’t know where to start.”

“Write about me,” Simon suggests. “Write about _us_.”

“Us?”

“Mhh. I’m sure there’s a story to tell about us. Maybe it’d be boring, but I’d love to read it anyway.” He jabs a finger into Raphael’s direction. “I’d finally be able to read your mind for once.”

Raphael snickers. “I’m not that hard to read. You just have to know how to open the book.”

“Are you going to tell me how to do that anytime soon?”

“That depends. Are you going to tell me which guy you’re crushing on?”

“Crushing on? I hope you know I’m no longer twelve.”

Raphael chuckles and wants to attempt to get the answer out of him anyway, but Maia chooses that moment to bring their food and the subject is quickly forgotten in favor of stuffing their faces.

“Hey,” Raphael says halfway through the meal, when his fist starts stinging, “I’m… I’m sorry you had to see me like that. Earlier.”

Simon looks like he’s trying to remember what he means, and then his face softens. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I used to have panic attacks too. Still have them sometimes. It’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

“Still. Thanks for handling it like you did, though.”

Simon shrugs. “You told me how to handle your panic attacks a while ago.”

“You remembered that?”

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

Raphael opens and closes his mouth, not sure how to respond to that. That same warm feeling in the pit of his stomach is back, like a nice bonfire.

“Anyway,” Simon continues, “how’s your pasta?”

They eat and talk and drink the night away, until it’s around eleven. Then they find their way to a local liquor store and buy a couple of bottles of alcohol they open in the car. Simon drives them to a nice spot overlooking the small city below them, a perfect place to watch the fireworks.

Talking to someone has never been so easy. Not even Magnus, who could strike up a conversation with a dead person if he tried hard enough, could keep Raphael talking for such an extended period of time. And even when they don’t say anything, when they just sit in silence, none of it is awkward or uncomfortable. It’s just… nice. It’s comforting and relaxing. There’s no pressure or fear of saying or doing something wrong.

Midnight is there way sooner than Raphael expected it to be.

“We should count down,” Simon suggests, holding up his phone opened on the midnight count down app.

“Okay,” Raphael agrees.

They count down together, watching the seconds fly by on Simon’s phone. When the timer hits zero, fireworks start going off in the city.

“Happy New Year,” Simon smiles.

Raphael smiles too. “Happy New Year,” he says.

Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the fresh start of a new year, or the way the fireworks reflect in Simon’s glasses, or how his smile is still as soft and warm as always, but New Year’s really isn’t New Year’s without a kiss, right? So, before he can chicken out, Raphael surges forward and kisses Simon straight on the lips.

Simon makes a surprised sound, but he melts into the kiss almost immediately. His lips part willingly for Raphael, who’s seeing more fireworks with his eyes closed than he would with his eyes open. Simon’s lips are just as soft as he imagined them to be. He tastes of alcohol and lasagna and _warmth_ , which shouldn’t even be possible. Raphael wants to taste more. He wants to taste _everything_.

Simon’s fingers tangle into Raphael’s hair, pulling him harder against his mouth. He moans softly, biting down onto Raphael’s bottom lip. Raphael takes a sharp breath.

“Fuck,” he whimpers when Simon’s hands move to his neck, where his pulse is going haywire. Simon grunts and pulls back, only briefly parting with Raphael’s mouth to wiggle himself out of the driver’s seat and onto Raphael’s lap.

Simon wants to kiss him again, but Raphael wants to explore more than just his lips. He kisses a trail down his cheek, his jaw, his throat. Simon groans and unbuttons the first few buttons of his shirt so Raphael can reach his collarbone.

Raphael won’t lie about having thought about kissing Simon before. He didn’t really know in what circumstances it would be, but he always figured it’d be just as soft as Simon’s entire presence. He didn’t know Simon could be like this – this demanding, this needy against him.

It doesn’t take long for Simon to become impatient. He starts unbuttoning Raphael’s shirt too, makes an attempt to undo his pants before realizing they don’t have enough space.

“ _God_ ,” he whimpers against Raphael’s neck as he lets his fingers rake over his chest, “I want you so badly.”

“Not here,” Raphael murmurs, though he would want nothing more than to just take Simon apart in the backseat. “Can you drive?”

“You bet your sweet ass I can drive,” Simon says. He crawls off Raphael’s lap immediately and starts the car, not even bothering to button up his shirt again.

The ride home goes by in a blur. Raphael is so focused on Simon next to him, on the thick tension in the air, that he can’t even _begin_ to worry about the road. He just wants to get home as fast as possible and finally get Simon in his bed.

They have to tiptoe their way upstairs, which makes the whole ordeal feel like they’re teenagers again. Simon even _giggles_ , which is absolutely adorable and is also driving Raphael up the walls. He needs this man in his bed right now.

Finally, they make it to Simon’s room. Raphael barely has the time to lock the door before Simon is pushing him towards his bed, hands moving all over his body.

Simon takes control once in bed. He pushes Raphael into the mattress, straddles his hips and starts unbuttoning his shirt fully, then moves on to Raphael’s pants. Raphael bites down on his tongue when Simon briefly teases his dick, then groans and flips them over to undress him next.

There’s a lot of tugging and impatient unbuttoning and even tearing, but eventually they’re both fully naked.

Simon’s skin is hot where it touches Raphael’s, and Raphael is so sensitive that he has to bite back moans just by having Simon run his fingers over his back.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Simon whines when Raphael grinds against him. He digs his nails into Raphael’s shoulders, but the pain only turns Raphael on more. “Fuck, Raphael. _Please_ …”

“Please what?”

“I don’t – ” Simon gasps when Raphael moves down to leave a trail of biting kisses down his neck “ – I don’t know. Just – anything. Everything. _Please_.”

“Okay,” Raphael mutters. He slowly slides his hand between Simon’s legs, wrapping it around the base of his cock. “Okay. I’ll give you everything.”

Simon has to bite down onto Raphael’s shoulder to stifle a moan, and Raphael hisses with pleasure.

This night may have started out to be the absolute worst, but now, with Simon squirming underneath him, he’s gonna try his damn hardest to end it in the best way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, everyone! As you can see, I changed the amount of chapters back to the question mark because I have no idea how to wrap this up. I'm thinking one more chapter and then the epilogue, but we'll see!
> 
> Either way, let me know what you thought of this chapter! I know the last scene might've ended a bit abruptly, but I didn't want to write a full-blown, explicit sex scene because I didn't think it would fit the general tone of this fic (plus I'm really bad at smut).


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're actually nearing the end now! After this there'll just be the epilogue and that'll be it!

When Raphael wakes up the next morning, it takes him a moment to realize where he is and what had happened the night before. It’s not because he was too drunk to remember anything – on the contrary. He hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol last night.

No, he remembers everything just fine. He just can’t believe that it happened, not even when Simon turns in his sleep and curls up against Raphael’s side.

He allows himself to think about last night for a moment. The way Simon’s skin had felt against his, how warm his mouth had been, how soft his hands. The way they moved together, touched each other. How his breathless moans had sounded, the way his name had rolled off his tongue. It had sounded like a plea, maybe even a prayer.

Though Raphael’s back is stinging where Simon had scratched him and his body is bruised where Simon had marked him, last night was… soft. Warm. Patient. They had teased each other for hours before finally falling apart and had fallen asleep in each other’s arms after Simon had kissed him deeply and passionately. Raphael still feels warm all over just thinking about it.

Simon stirs in his sleep and makes a soft sound at the back of his throat, then presses a kiss to Raphael’s shoulder. Raphael smiles to himself and turns to his side to pull Simon into a sleepy embrace.

Simon sighs contently, pressing his face into the crook of Raphael’s neck.

“Good morning,” he mutters.

Raphael lets his fingers slide over Simon’s back. “Good morning.”

Simon moves even closer to him and curls his arm around Raphael’s waist.

“What time is it?” He asks.

“I don’t know. Let me – ”

“No,” Simon says, tangling his legs with Raphael’s, “don’t get out of bed. ‘s warm.”

Raphael chuckles lightly and runs his fingers through Simon’s thick curls. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mhh. Good.”

They lie there together for a while, occasionally drifting back to sleep. Simon rubs his thumb over Raphael’s hipbone absentmindedly, but when Raphael shifts under his touch, his fingers become more purposeful. Raphael gets goosebumps where Simon drags his fingers up his torso, over his abdomen, stomach and ribs. Simon pulls himself up and kisses Raphael’s neck, then his jaw.

“Normally I’m not that big of a fan of morning sex,” Simon murmurs when he reaches Raphael’s lips, “but you’re just so fucking hot. I can’t help it.”

“Is that so?” Raphael teases. He brings up his own hands to tangle his fingers in Simon’s hair and push him against his lips.

Simon is demanding. It’s something Raphael wouldn’t expect from him, but he can’t say he’s complaining. He likes how he takes control, how his hands are steady and strong where they touch him.

Their kiss turns too dirty too quickly, and Raphael is panting by the time Simon pulls back and moves on to his throat and collarbone, back down until he’s settled between his legs under the sheets.

Raphael has gotten a few blowjobs in his life. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of material to compare, but he does know what a good blowjob feels like. And Simon _definitely_ gives good blowjobs. He knows just when to go faster or slower and where to lick or drag his tongue.

Raphael has to grab a pillow and press it against his face to stifle his moans as Simon takes care of him, head bobbing and making appreciative sounds at the back of his throat. Raphael can’t wait to return the favor when he finishes.

But before it can come to that, someone bursts into Simon’s room.

“Oh,” Raphael hears. He snaps his head up and sees Julian standing in the door leading to the bathroom. Damn it, he always forgets to lock that one.

“Uh, good-good morning,” he stutters, trying to catch his breath.

“Hey. What are you doing in Simon’s room? And where’s Simon?”

Raphael clenches his thighs, hoping that Simon gets it and doesn’t move. Apparently Julian didn’t notice him under his heap of blankets, and for once Raphael is grateful for Simon’s obsession with being cozy and having lots of unnecessary stuff on his bed.

“He’s, uh – ” Fuck, why does he have to sound so breathless? He swallows, takes a deep breath and tries again. “I don’t know. Does – does Diego need him?”

“Nah,” Julian shrugs. “We’re just bored. Are you getting up?”

“Yeah, just give me a minute. I’ll be down in a few.”

“Okay. I’ll go see if Simon is in the study.”

“Good call,” Raphael agrees. He watches as Julian turns around and shuts the door behind him, then listens if he can hear him leave. When he hears the door to his own room close, he lets out a deep breath.

“That was close.”

Simon crawls back up to catch his breath, cheeks bright red. “It was. Come on, I’ll finish you off in the shower. Saves time.”

“Wait, what about you?”

Simon blinks at him, then grins. “Don’t worry about that. I like putting it off. Just promise me I’ll get to fuck you tonight and I’ll be fine.”

Raphael blushes at his words but agrees.

*

The rest of his stay almost feels too good to be true. After the anticipated talk with his mother about his reaction to seeing his aunt and promising her to finally go see a therapist back in New York, everything is back to being way better than Raphael deserves.

His brothers start to look at him as their big brother again, wanting to hang out with him and asking for advice. Diego even asks him to teach him how to play the piano.

Simon is great too. They try to act normal around each other where others can see them, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep his hands to himself whenever he’s around him. Raphael’s hands itch to hold Simon’s hand or cup his cheeks or rake his nails over his back. Whenever Simon has the slightest bit of skin exposed to him, whether it’s because he’s stretching his neck or when he has to reach something on the shelf and his shirt creeps up, Raphael’s mind goes absolutely blank. It’s embarrassing how Simon has him all wrapped around his finger.

They have sex too, and lots of it. They make sure to lock both their doors before getting into bed together in order not to get caught, and then spend half the night exploring each other’s bodies before falling asleep curled up against each other. Raphael learns that Simon really does like delaying his orgasm. He can go on for hours, telling Raphael to stop whenever he gets too close.

For not being a fan of morning sex, they have a lot of that too. And it’s _so_ good. Raphael didn’t even know he was so sensitive to touch until Simon.

But the best thing, better than the sex or the lingering eye contact when they’re around Raphael’s family, are the dates.

Raphael is leaving in a week, so Simon makes sure to spend as much time together as possible. He insists on going out every day, whether it’s just going for a drink or taking a walk with Liza or even staying in. Suddenly, their movie nights have been promoted to date nights. And more often than not, they don’t even make it to the end of the movie before impatiently getting each other out of their clothes.

The end of his stay comes too quickly. Raphael considers staying a bit longer, but he’s really needed back in New York. He’s already pushed it by staying away so long. He can’t put it off any longer.

His heart is heavy when they finally have to say goodbye. Simon helps him pack on the day he’s flying back to New York and tries to persuade him into staying just a little bit longer, which just results in a frustrated make-out session because Raphael just _can’t_.

Diego cries when they say goodbye. He tries to hide it, but Raphael knows him well enough to notice. Julian makes him promise to Skype a lot and Daniel doesn’t want him to go because he “promised Santa to stay”, until Simon tells him Spiderman needs him back in New York and that he’ll be back.

His mother cries too. She hugs him to her chest and tells him she loves him and that he’s always welcome here.

“I know,” Raphael says, and he means it. He no longer feels that crippling guilt weighing him down. He knows his family will always be there to welcome him back home.

After hugging goodbye to his family, it’s time to say goodbye to Simon. He doesn’t really know what to do, whether to hug him or kiss him or maybe even just lamely shake his hand, but then his mother slaps him on the shoulder.

“Just kiss him, you fool,” she insists.

“Wh – ” Raphael starts, confused, but Guadalupe interrupts him.

“You really thought I hadn’t noticed you two sneaking around? I’m your mother, Raphael. I notice everything.”

“Oh,” is all that Raphael can come up with. He tries not to think about the possibility that she might have heard them getting each other off and instead focuses his attention on Simon, who’s looking sadder than he’s ever seen him.

“I’ll miss you,” Simon says, voice soft.

“I’ll miss you too. Call me, okay? And Skype or write letters or whatever.”

Simon nods. “I will.”

“Okay,” Raphael murmurs. Everything around them falls away until it’s just him and Simon and all the things left unspoken between them, all the things that could be and might be someday. Raphael cups his cheeks and gives him a soft kiss on the lips, to which Simon wraps his hands around Raphael’s wrists and pushes back against his mouth just enough for Raphael to want more.

“I knew it!” Diego yells when they pull back, jabbing his finger at the both of them. “I freaking knew it! You two are so obvious it actually physically pains me.”

Simon rolls his eyes at him, but his cheeks are pink and his smile bashful.

“I really have to go now,” Raphael says, glancing down at his watch. The cab has already been waiting outside for over five minutes and is getting impatient.

“Okay, be safe, _mijo_ ,” his mother says. “Text me when you land. Call me when you get home.”

“I will. And I’ll call you too,” he tells Simon.

“I know. Take care of yourself, okay? Just call me when you need me.”

Raphael offers him an intimate smile and nods, kissing him once more before taking his bags and walking outside.

His family and Simon watch him drive off, and he keeps looking back at them until he can no longer see the house.


	12. Epilogue

_“So, how was therapy?”_

Raphael smiles into his phone as he closes the door to his apartment. Apollo comes up to greet him, licking his hand as a way to say hi before darting back into the living room. Raphael kicks off his shoes and briefly puts his phone down to get out of his jacket, then puts it back to his ear as he walks into the living room and plops down onto his couch.

“It was alright,” he says. He’d been going to therapy twice a week since his visit to his family, and it’s really helping him cope with his trauma. He’s barely had any nightmares since being back in New York. The fact that Simon calls him every night and talks to him until he falls asleep might have something to do with that too. “I miss you, though.”

Simon sighs. “ _I miss you too. I’ve never been in a long distance relationship before._ ”

“You’re doing a great job at it,” Raphael assures him.

“ _We’re both doing pretty well. It’s just that I wish I could be with you_.”

“I know. I’ll try to visit by the end of the month. How’s everyone over there doing anyway?”

Simon updates him on life in New Mexico like he does every time they talk on the phone. Well, _almost_ like he does every time they’re on the phone. Sometimes they talk about other stuff, stuff that’s usually reserved for in the bedroom and that makes Raphael’s breath catch in his throat.

It’s been six months after his holiday visit to his family. He’s been trying to visit once a month, but he can’t always afford to disappear for a weekend. Whenever he does find the time to go, he spends one day with his brothers and mother and one day with Simon.

At first, neither of them really knew where they stood in their relationship. They didn’t know if there even _was_ a relationship. His first few visits were a bit awkward at first, but that changed after Diego forced them to be completely honest about their feelings for each other (that boy _really_ wants them do be together, for some weird personal reason). After that, they both realized they didn’t have time to be awkward around each other and decided to just _go_ for it.

Raphael sleeps in Simon’s bed whenever he comes to visit, and when he’s in New York, they call all the time. It’s even come to the point where Raphael has a selfie of Simon as his phone background, which is totally cheesy and ridiculous, but he can’t help it. Magnus teases him about it, but not even _that_ can make Raphael change it. He’s been happier than he’s been in years since his holiday visit. It’s mostly because he finally reconnected with his family, but Simon definitely plays a part in it too.

“ _And yeah, that’s what’s going on here. Nothing exciting.”_

“Yeah? No wild things planned?”

It’s quiet on the other side of the line for a moment. Raphael can almost hear Simon chew his lip.

“ _Not really_ ,” he says eventually. “ _Hey, I actually gotta run. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”_

“Okay.”

_“Okay, bye. Love you!”_

Raphael gasps softly. They’d been dating for a while now, but neither of them had ever said those words before. Not because they didn’t feel that way – Raphael _knows_ Simon loves him, just like Simon knows Raphael loves him – but just because they mean so much. Raphael has never told any of his boyfriends he loved them. It’s a pretty big deal for him.

“ _Oh, shit,_ ” Simon curses, “ _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean – I mean, I meant it, I just… didn’t want to – ”_

Raphael is endeared by Simon’s nervous stutter.

“Simon, it’s okay,” he smiles. Then, his heart is almost beating out of his chest: “I love you too.”

“ _You do? I mean – I know you do. I just didn’t wanna, like, say it for the first time over the phone.”_

“You can tell me again when we see each other again.”

“ _I guess you’re right. Okay, I really have to go now. I love you.”_

Raphael’s stomach does a flip. He struggles to not grin too widely.

“I love you too, baby. Call me later tonight.”

“ _I will. Okay. Bye.”_

“Bye.”

*

“You’re being particularly grumpy today,” Magnus remarks a few days later. He places a cup of coffee in front of Raphael’s face and drapes himself over the chair opposite of Raphael’s.

Raphael glares at him over his desk. “I’m not,” he grumbles.

“Okay, let me just point out you just glared at me as you said that.”

Raphael exhales. “Fine, maybe I’m in a bad mood today.”

“Mind explaining me why?”

“I just – I didn’t find the time to fly to New Mexico this month, and I miss my family. I miss Simon.”

“Ah, yes. The cute boyfriend on your phone you barely talk about.”

“I don’t like talking about my love life,” Raphael defends himself. He’d told Magnus the basics: that Simon’s smile is so beautiful it makes him all warm, that he’s really bad at cooking and that he can make him laugh no matter what. That’s all he really needs to know. He feels like oversharing about him will make their relationship less… intimate. As if Simon is his own little secret he wants to keep.

“Fair enough,” Magnus says. “Why don’t you just take the weekend off to go visit?”

“Magnus, you _know_ I can’t. Not after Herondale International decided to opt out of our partnership. I’m just – I’m too busy.”

Magnus chews his lip, seeming to be deep in thought. Then he pushes himself out of his chair and readjusts his silk shirt.

“You really have to start prioritizing, Raphael. How much longer are you going to put work above family and love before you realize it’s making you miserable?”

He doesn’t wait for his reply before promptly marching out of Raphael’s office.

*

Two days later, Raphael gets a suspicious text from Simon.

**From: Simon  
** _I’m coming._

Raphael scrolls up to see if they were in the middle of some sexting and Simon just got distracted, but the last thing they talked about was adopting a cat if they ever moved in together. So Raphael frowns at his screen and replies.

**To: Simon  
** _Need a little help with that?_

The reply comes almost immediately.

**From: Simon  
** _No, not like that. My dirty mid has truly corrupted you._

Then he sends a picture, and it takes Raphael a few seconds to completely register what he’s seeing. Once he does, he almost drops his phone in an attempt to call Simon.

“You’re coming to New York?!” He yells as soon as Simon picks up with a cheerful _Hello_.

_“Well, your intimidating friend Magnus yelled at me until I personally bought tickets. We’re all coming down next week.”_

“Wait, everyone? Really? You aren’t kidding?”

“ _Nope, we’re all very excited! And I for one am a bit scared to meet Magnus in person after he threatened me on Facebook Face Call.”_

“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that. I guess it’s because I’ve been kinda upset lately because I miss you all so much. I knew he was up to something when he marched out of my office as if he was planning world domination.”

“ _Well, tell him he’s very persuasive and also to please not hurt me when we land.”_

“I will. I just – I can’t believe you’re coming here.”

“ _I know, right? It’s gonna be so much fun. I can’t wait to see you.”_

“Me neither.”

“ _Okay, well, I gotta go back to what Guadalupe actually pays me for, but I’ll call you tonight. Okay?”_

“Sure thing, babe. Love you.”

Raphael can actually _hear_ Simon’s grin through the phone.

“ _I love you too,”_ he says.

*

Raphael never really _got_ sappy romances. He especially didn’t like airport scenes, where one person would desperately run through an airport in the hope that their significant other hadn’t boarded yet. And they _never_ had, which just isn’t realistic.

But when he sees Simon coming towards him, in a white shirt and loose jeans and his hair wild and curly, Raphael suddenly understands. He has to fight every fiber in his body to not break into a sprint to meet him halfway.

Simon hasn’t noticed him yet. He’s scanning the crowd, his bag flung over his shoulder – which makes his biceps even more prominent, especially with his short sleeves, and Raphael might get weak-kneed just a bit – and his sunglasses shoved into his hair on the top of his head. He looks like a freaking model like that.

And then finally, _finally_ , their eyes meet. Simon breaks into a huge grin, one that Raphael has missed so much, and runs towards him until he’s in Raphael’s arms.

“Oh man,” Simon breathes, squeezing Raphael tightly. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Raphael says, clinging onto the back of Simon’s shirt.

Simon pulls back from their embrace far enough to catch Raphael’s lips in a swift kiss and then steps back so that Raphael can greet his family too.

Daniel seems to have grown in the month and a half Raphael didn’t see him, and Julian got a haircut. Diego grins at him before they hug, not a trace of his old resentment towards him on his face, and his mother tears up when Raphael kisses her cheek.

They all agreed that Raphael’s family would be staying at Magnus’s apartment because he has more room than Raphael has, and Simon will be staying at Raphael’s. Raphael helps his family settle and waits patiently for them to refresh themselves so he can take them all out for dinner. He and Simon make out on Magnus’s couch until his family is ready to go, and there’s a promise of _more_ lingering on Simon’s lips when they part.

Magnus meets them for dinner, falling into his old banter with Guadalupe as soon as they reunite. Daniel doesn’t remember him, but he’s quickly mesmerized by Magnus’s funny stories and dramatic hand gestures.

Raphael holds Simon’s hand during the entire meal, and even when he briefly lets go in order to cut his meat, Simon is sure to place his hand on Raphael’s knee instead. It’s as if they’re both touch starved, which is probably true.

Raphael looks around the table during dessert. Simon next to him, completely going up in his piece of cake, hand on Raphael’s knee. Magnus across Simon, occasionally throwing glances at Simon’s eating  manners but mostly chatting with Guadalupe next to him. Diego on the other side of Raphael, bickering with Julian about something ridiculous, and Daniel playing with his food. Not even now, when his family, boyfriend and best friend are all enjoying themselves at the dinner table, can Raphael believe that this is _real_. That this is his life. That he’s surrounded by people he loves, that he’s fortunate enough to have his family back and have gained a boyfriend too.

And yeah, sometimes his panic attacks are still so bad that he feels like he’s dying. Sometimes his anxiety is so crippling that he can’t move. But even though Simon isn’t usually physically with him, even though his family lives in another state, he has never felt more accepted and safe and _loved_.

*

Being with Simon after spending so much time apart is incredible. Neither of them lasts very long, but they continue to tease each other until they’re both ready for round two. It last for hours, lazy kissing and teasing fingers and soft moans. Simon curls up against Raphael’s side when they’re finally done and drapes an arm over his waist.

“Have I told you I love you yet?” He mutters sleepily.

Raphael huffs a laugh. “Only like two hundred times since you landed.”

“It’s just so nice to say.” He lifts his head to look at Raphael and traces his cheekbone with a finger. “I love you.”

Raphael turns his head to press a kiss to Simon’s finger. “I love you too.”

Simon offers him a lazy smile and lets his head rest on his chest again. “This is so nice. Your apartment is so nice.”

“Yeah? Something you could get used to?”

“Mhh, definitely.” Then he sighs. “But I can’t just drop my work to move back here to be closer to you. Even though I really want to.”

Raphael pulls him closer to his chest. “I know. Let’s not think about that, okay? You’re here now, and we’ll have a great time.”

Simon nods. “That sounds like a great plan.”

*

Raphael’s family and Simon stay in New York for a week. Raphael tries to show them around as much as he can between work, even calling in sick for a few days so that he can hang out with them. Simon takes him out too, taking him to his favorite stores and clubs he used to sneak into.

The week goes by way too quickly. Raphael wishes his family could just stay forever, but before he knows it, he’s driving them back to the airport.

“I have one last surprise,” Guadalupe says when they’re saying their goodbyes. Simon is still holding Raphael’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Oh?” Raphael says. He secretly hopes she’ll tell him they’ve extended their stay for another week, but he knows that’d be too good to be true.

“I’ve had a talk with your brothers, and they all decided they’d love to be closer to you. And they all seem to enjoy New York.”

“Especially Brooklyn,” Simon grins proudly.

“Wait, I’m confused. Are you staying a bit longer?” Raphael wonders.

His mother smiles. “Not today. But when you were out with Simon or your brothers, I started looking into property for sale here. I’ve found a pretty big house in Brooklyn that would be perfect for us. Elementary and high school right around the corner.”

Raphael’s mind is desperately trying to catch up with what his mother is saying. Simon has to nudge him before Raphael finds his voice again. “W – you’ve been looking at houses? Are you – are you planning to _move_ here?”

“I think we’re all ready for some change of scenery,” his mother smiles. “And I’ve had to miss you long enough, Raphael. I want to be closer to you.”

Raphael honestly can’t believe what’s happening. He has to squeeze Simon’s hand and feel his warmth next to him to make sure this is real.

“And Simon – ”

“Well, I’d come with them, of course,” Simon grins. His eyes are sparkling.

Raphael looks from Simon to his mother and brothers and back.

“Is this – wh – are you serious? Are you really moving here?”

His mother nods. “It’s pretty much decided already. We’re just going home to settle everything and then we’ll be back.”

Raphael is speechless. He’d had to miss them for so long, had to juggle work and family and love for months, and now that would all be solved? He can’t believe it.

“Well?” Simon asks, still smiling. “What do you think?”

“I think – I think that’s amazing. I can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” his mother says. “We’ll be back before you can even start missing us.”

Raphael blinks back tears and hugs his mother to his chest. He still can’t believe that this is _really_ happening, that this isn’t some weird trick his mind is playing on him, but he won’t question his luck.

“Hey, I want a hug too!” Diego complains. Raphael laughs and moves to hug him next, and then Julian and Daniel. When he’s back standing next to Simon, someone over the intercom says their flight is ready to board.

“Well, this goodbye isn’t as hard as I thought it would be,” Simon says. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“I know. And you’ll be here to stay.”

“I can’t wait. Come here.” Simon pulls him into a kiss, cupping the back of his neck. Raphael fists the material of Simon’s shirt to pull him closer and tilts his head to deepen the kiss, but then Diego is tugging at the back of Simo’s shirt.

“Time to go, Romeo,” he says.

“Alright, alright. I’m coming,” he chuckles. He gives Raphael a last swift kiss and picks up his bag.

“I’ll call you when we land,” he promises.

“Okay. Now, go. Don’t miss your flight.”

Simon nods. “I love you,” he reminds him.

Raphael squeezes his hand one last time.

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it's a wrap??? I can't believe I actually did it!! This is the first time I've ever posted a WIP and I was so scared I wouldn't finish it, especially with the holiday mayhem and finals coming up and what not, but I actually did it!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this journey. I know the holiday season isn't the easiest for some people, but I hope this fic made it easier for you. I want to thank all of you for the constant support, for the ecouraging comments and for sticking around in general. I know nobody really likes WIPS, but you've all been so incredibly supportive and you all really pulled me through this.
> 
> It was really hard to wrap this bad boy up, and I know the ending is a bit unrealistic, but I just needed them all to be together in the end. I hope you enjoyed!


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